


If You Want To Leave, I'm Already Gone

by bluecurls



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Clint Is a Good Bro, Darcy can be an idiot too, F/M, Kid Fic, Protective Bucky Barnes, Tony Is a Good Bro, Unplanned Pregnancy, steve is an idiot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-17
Packaged: 2018-10-06 04:35:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 44,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10325726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluecurls/pseuds/bluecurls
Summary: Darcy Lewis and Steve Rogers had nothing in common, so of course they fell for each other.Loving a superhero isn't easy, especially one who is convinced being with him can only lead to heartache. When Steve leaves, Darcy is hurt, but she won't let the pain stop her from being awesome.A little piece of plastic may have something to say about that.All characters you recognize do NOT belong to me. Marvel owns it all!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Another report from my deleted MerryBerry8 account. This is a multi-chapter story and it is complete, but I'm editing as I repost, so it won't go up all at once.

Steve Rogers is stubborn.

In many ways, his tenacity made him who he is. Because he refused to let his body’s ailments keep him from trying to enlist in the United States Army over and over again, he met Dr. Abraham Erskine. It was his persistence to be just as good as the other men in basic training that cemented the doctor’s opinion that Steve Rogers was the perfect candidate for his “super soldier” experiment. Steve, of course, was obstinate enough to survive the procedure. The serum enhanced all of Steve’s personality traits. He was loyal, brave, stubborn and smart before the serum, and more so after – especially stubborn. That determination saved James Barnes from Hydra – twice. It also made him the perfect leader for Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. Who else could manage to control the Hulk, Black Widow and Iron Man in the heat of battle?

Yes, Steve Rogers is stubborn. It’s his best, and worst, trait.

Darcy Lewis is proud.

On paper, it might not seem she had reason to be. She works with some of the smartest scientists in the world, but her not-yet-finished college degree is in political science. She’s surrounded by money, but wears consignment store clothes. She’s loud, brash and often lacks tact. That’s what made Tony Stark decide to keep her after he talked Dr. Jane Foster into ditching SHIELD for Stark Industries. Darcy had no reason to be living in Avengers Tower, but after years of seemingly being in the wrong place at the wrong time, it seemed she finally landed on her feet. She was going to make the most of it, even if it meant taking two more geniuses under her wings. Anyone who thought she was unqualified to do so could fuck off.

Yes, Darcy Lewis is proud. It’s her best, and worst, trait.

These two people had next to nothing in common. He was the man out of time. She was very much a product of her generation. He was quiet, watchful. She was noisy and easily distracted. He enjoyed going for long runs in the park to clear his head. She preferred dancing around to sounds she claimed were music. He tended to save his obscenities for the battlefield; she swore like a sailor. He preferred conservative clothes in earth tones. She was drawn to material that was too bright, too tight and/or too short.

Of course they fell for each other.

The first time they met, Steve didn’t know what to make of Darcy, but she fascinated him. She didn’t treat him like he was fragile. She had no problem asking him questions about his past and was more than willing to help bring him up to speed on the future. Darcy, for her part, liked being seen as someone who knew things. Sure, all Steve wanted to know is what Clint meant when he chanted “One of us, one of us” after Sam was officially welcomed to the Avengers – nothing that was going to save the world or tear a hole through the universe – but it was a question she could answer. Steve was good for her ego.

It was Bucky who pointed out the obvious. The three were watching television when a friendly tussle over the remote control evolved into the most frustrating example of foreplay Bucky ever witnessed. “For the fucking love of God, just kiss the girl already," he demanded before stomping out of the living room on the Avengers’ communal floor.

Steve stared at Darcy. She stared back at him. Two seconds later, their lips were pressed together, hands that were used to tickle moments before were now stroking and soothing. “Finally!” Clint said from somewhere in the vents, prompting Steve to pick Darcy up and carry her to her apartment for privacy.

That was about a year ago. They’d been a couple ever since. It wasn’t easy. Steve’s job took him far away for long periods of time. Darcy’s schedule was at the mercy of her scientists. They didn’t plan many dates because any time they did, something bad happened, but that was OK. They had each other. They didn’t need anything else. The passion they discovered that first night had not diminished over time. If anything, it got better. Steve knew Darcy’s body better than she did. He could have her wet and wanting in seconds. Darcy, in turn, knew exactly what to do make Steve lose control. Luckily, their shared knowledge of each other benefitted them both.

Things weren’t perfect, of course. Steve worried about Darcy. He worried about her safety in the labs, about the dangers she was exposed to daily in the name of science. He worried about the enemies he made, how they could use her as a tool to hurt him. She, in turn, feared his lack of survival instincts. She knew he was strong, that the serum that flowed through his body made him resilient, but he wasn’t invincible. They didn’t fight about much, but they fought about that. It was then that his stubbornness and her pride would come out in full force. She’d slam out of their apartment and he’d plow his fists into punching bags until the love they had for each other brought them together again.

Sometimes, though, love isn’t enough.

* * *

 

Darcy wasn’t surprised when it happened. On some level, part of her always knew Steve’s concern for her safety would be their downfall. She just assumed it would happen after she was involved in yet another lab accident or failed kidnapping attempt. She didn’t think a simple movie would be their end, but life is funny like that. 

“That could be you.” Steve held himself stiff as he watched Liam Neeson’s character on the screen. Darcy snorted and dug around the popcorn bowl for the M&Ms that always drifted to the bottom. “I’m serious, Darcy.”

She sighed. He’d been in a mood most of the night. She assumed it had something to do with the debriefing he attended earlier, but when she asked if he wanted to talk about it, he shook his head no. “It’s a movie, Steve.” A good movie, in her opinion, but apparently the wrong choice for that evening’s entertainment. 

He turned the television off. “But our lives aren’t! I helped break up a sex trafficking ring last year! Do you think I don’t worry that I didn’t get everyone, that there’s someone out there plotting their revenge and you’re the key to it?”

“Steve – “

“People know who you are, Darcy! They know where you work and with whom. Hell, our picture from the last SI benefit was all over the Internet!” 

Darcy set the popcorn bowl aside. Personally, she loved that picture. Steve had worn his dress uniform from the 1940s and she found a vintage navy blue dress to match. None of the cutlines that ran with the photograph identified her as Steve Roger’s girlfriend, but that didn’t stop the speculation. There was a time she’d be contributing to the online chatter just as much as the next fangirl. “Who cares? The gossip sites have Nat linked to a different member of the team every week.”

“Natasha can take care of herself!” 

Darcy stood up. She knew she wasn’t the Black Widow, but she had taken self-defense lessons from the master assassin. “You’re saying I can’t?”

“No, I’m …” He ran his hands through his hair as he tried to dig himself out of the hole his mouth opened. “Darcy, you’re different. You’ve always been different. You’re sweet and soft and so goddamn vulnerable. You walk down the street without a care in the world and it fucking scares me to death because I know what’s out there! I’ve seen it. I’ve fought it. I’ve seen it come back, bigger and better, with a vengeance bordering on suicidal. I don’t want that to touch you!” He paced the room like a caged tiger, his body tense with suppressed emotion. He approached his shield, propped against the wall like another man would leave his briefcase after a day at the office. “I want to keep you safe,” he said, almost robotically, “but every day you’re with me, every day I refuse to see the truth and hold on to you tighter, the target on your back gets that much bigger.”

Darcy felt something heavy settle in her stomach. It took the fight out of her. This wasn’t their usual argument. The words were the same, but the tone was different. For the first time ever, Steve looked defeated. That scared Darcy more than some unnamed threat. “What are you saying?” she whispered, desperately hoping for a call to assemble to stop him from answering. If he had to go, he couldn’t continue down this train of thought. His mind would be on the fight. It might be enough to make him forget altogether. 

He looked torn. His eyes glistened with unshed tears, but his mouth was firm, his jaw set as he faced her. “I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

It was the moment she dreaded, the moment she feared since the first morning she woke up with Steve’s arms wrapped around her. She knew it was coming, knew that as long as he wielded his shield, the safety of the world would come before his happiness. He was honorable like that. It was that “good man” quality that made him Steve Rogers and Captain America. 

At that moment, she hated him. She hated both parts of him.

She could scream. She could yell. She could tell him all the reasons he was wrong, _this_ was wrong, but she didn’t. She wouldn’t. “I can’t believe you’re doing this.”

He shook his head like he couldn’t believe it either. She could practically see him arguing with himself. She didn’t bother to hope that common sense would trump his fears. It never had before.

“I’ll leave,” he offered. "I'll stay with Bucky or Sam tonight, and come back for my stuff later.”

That’s right. This was her apartment before it was their apartment. That meant he was the one to leave. Those were the rules. He’d leave and she’d have to watch him go, watch him walk out and never come back. She ignored the stab of pain to her chest, her heart. She would not cry. She would not let him see her cry. She was sure he knew he was breaking her heart, but she’d be fucking damned if she’d let him see it. “Yeah, okay,” she said, her tone flat, lifeless. “I’ll have Jarvis let you know when I’m not around so you can get your things.”

They stood there, two people who just that morning wasted hours in bed, kissing and touching, whispering words of love as their bodies joined together. He had rubbed his nose against hers and called her beautiful. She had brushed his hair away from his face and called him adorable.

Darcy turned away first. She couldn’t watch him walk away. She could keep her head up, keep her tears inside, but she couldn’t do that. She moved toward their bedroom – her bedroom – and shut the door, sliding against it until her bottom hit the floor. She heard Steve move, pictured him picking up his shield after tugging on his boots. The jingle of keys meant he grabbed his leather jacket from where he had draped it over one of the kitchen chairs when he got home. She listened as he made his way to the apartment door, his footsteps heavier than usual, as if he wanted her to know he was leaving. She held her breath for a reprieve, but all that came was the soft click of the lock, echoing throughout the apartment’s silence like a bullet.

* * *

 

"You’re an asshole,” Bucky told Steve. 

“Stop being stupid,” Natasha said to Darcy.

“I pushed Betty away because I was afraid,” Bruce confessed to Steve.

“My arrogance almost cost me Pepper,” Tony admitted to Darcy in a rare showing of empathy. 

Thor punched Steve in the face.

Jane plied Darcy with alcohol.

Sam tried to talk to Steve. 

Clint gave Darcy a gun and had her shoot at targets until her arms were shaking from the effort. Steve moved upstate to oversee the training of the new Avengers on a permanent basis. Pepper offered Darcy a new position with Stark Industries overseeing the company’s global charities. She accepted and was on a plane to Dubai two days later. When she returned, her apartment was cleared of Steve’s things. Pepper had a crew come in to shampoo the rugs that dotted the hardwood floors, eliminating even the scent of him. Darcy’s possessions were rearranged so it never looked like it was once a shared space.

Time passed, but their hearts didn’t heal. He loved her and she loved him. They missed each other, desperately, but neither one reached out to the other.

Steve Rogers was stubborn. 

Darcy Lewis was proud.

According to the people who know and love them, they’re both idiots.


	2. Chapter 2

Darcy was mad. No, mad was too mild a word for what she was feeling. She was pissed! She sat on the cement floor, her head lowered like a good little hostage, but she was glaring daggers at the men who’d stormed the tiny school hours before through the curtain of her dark hair, her rage at the situation replacing any fear she might have had.

Around her, girls from ages eight up to 12 huddled together, still and mostly quiet except for a few hushed whispers and an errant sniffle. Darcy told herself it was better than their screams, which started as soon as the men rushed into the classroom, brandishing guns and shouting orders to “Shut up!” One man went so far as to do their stereotypical bad guy shooting the ceiling maneuver to show that he was serious, that his gun was loaded and he would use it.

She shifted in another failed attempt to make herself comfortable, careful not to disrupt the two girls using her legs as pillows, nor the youngest – Maria – she had tucked under her arm. Her instinct was to ask questions, to find out who these men were and what they wanted, but she forced herself to keep quiet for the girls. They were innocents. Their only crime was displaying an aptitude for science, which made them the perfect participants in Stark Industries’ first-ever international all-girl engineering initiative.

Darcy had traveled to the South American village to present the school with everything they needed to launch the after-school program, modeled after one SI piloted in Harlem the year before. She felt a little like Santa, helping the wide-eyes students open boxes of tools and miniature robotics, books and laptops. These nine girls weren’t wealthy. Their parents weren’t influential. The fact that the granola bars Darcy had pulled from her bag hours before and passed around in attempt to hush their growling stomachs was proof that they had nothing of value to offer the men who surrounded the room. They were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Miss Darcy,” Maria whispered, one lone tear sliding down her plump cheek. “I want my mama. I want to go home!” 

Darcy pulled the little girl closer. “I know sweetie; I know. You’ll go home soon; I promise. You just need to be braver a little bit longer, OK?”

“And then Iron Man will save us?”

Darcy glanced around to make sure no one could hear their conversation. She was grateful that, for once, Tony hadn’t insisted on plastering his name all over the materials she’d brought to the school. Even the boxes were plain cardboard. The men had torn through them earlier, throwing items against the school’s cement walls. Whether they were looking for something specific or showing off, she didn’t know. When they asked Darcy who she was and why she was there, she made up a story about a global humanitarian effort, pulling words out of the air, making her voice as high-pitched as possible while her hands shook. It was an A+ performance in fear; Natasha would be pleased. They dismissed her immediately with orders to “Keep the brats quiet or else!”

She didn’t mention Stark Industries and she sure as hell did not mention Iron Man or the other Avengers, and was grateful that the girls she’d pushed behind her kept quiet, too.

“He’ll be here,” she promised, knowing her travel schedule was constantly monitored by Jarvis. Failure to check in at set times sent out an alert. Failure to respond to that alerted Pepper. If Pepper couldn’t reach Darcy … well, that hadn’t happened in the 14 months Darcy had this job, but she was certain it wouldn’t end well for the bad guys.

When the Avengers did arrive, it was almost anti-climactic. It was late. Darcy didn’t know how late – her cell phone was one of the first things the assholes had destroyed – but it was dark and still, the occasional murmurs of the men the only sound besides nature’s ordinary chatter. A sharp whistle jolted Darcy from a restless sleep. For a second she didn’t know why she woke up, but then it came again and she knew. Clint. That was his signal. She poked the arm of the oldest girl, whispered for her to keep still, but explained that help had arrived.

“We’re going to stay in this corner, behind the desk,” Darcy told her. “Tell the others.”

Darcy would never make fun of Clint and his arrows again. His silent kills eliminated their guards quickly and efficiently, so much so that the girls weren’t even aware of what happened when Sam and Natasha suddenly appeared. Darcy helped them usher the girls out of the classroom, shielding them from the bodies that littered the floor and away from the other buildings teeming with bad guys. She doubted their deaths would be as merciful.

“Miss Lewis,” Phil Coulson greeted Darcy as she helped the last girl into the black SUV, where they would be driven to the pop-up SHIELD base and reunited with their families.

“Agent iPod thief.” She placed her hands on her hips. “I fully expect for those girls to get something more than MRE’s once medical clears them.”

“Miss Potts has it taken care of,” Coulson replied as a flash of lightening illuminated the sky.

“I see Thor’s here,” Darcy remarked, the man’s arrival clearly the go signal for the rest of the team.

“So much for the element of surprise,” Coulson sighed.

* * *

 

Darcy wasn’t allowed to stick around until the end of the fight. She wouldn’t even if she could. More than a year had passed since Steve left her and by intricate design and dumb luck, she had managed to avoid seeing him since. Knowing he was there, on top of everything else she’d gone through that day, was too much, so when Coulson ushered her into yet another black SUV, she got in without argument. She was too drained from the events of the last 18 hours to fully appreciate the surprised look on the man’s face.

Darcy was silent on the way to the makeshift SHIELD base. She didn’t put up a fight when she was ushered to the medical tent. She walked away with several large bottles of water, an ice pack for her cheek (she broke her self-imposed “Don’t cause trouble” rule when they broke her cell phone, resulting in a backhand that sent her to the floor) and a new phone, courtesy of Pepper Potts. She made sure to check on the girls before she called her boss, waving aside their parents’ gratitude and thanks as she told them how brave their daughters were. She promised to have everything the bad guys destroyed replaced and laughed when Maria asked if that meant more granola bars, too. 

“I can’t wait to see how your PR director spins this,” Darcy told Pepper over the phone.

“Please,” the older woman laughed. “A hostage situation is nothing compared to Tony’s antics.” 

Darcy paused. She’d gotten to know Pepper pretty well over the past few years, cementing her teenage dream of being just like her someday as the greatest goal ever. She was tough, fair and scarily efficient – and right now she was hiding something. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Your flying back on the quinjet,” Pepper spoke quickly.

“What? No!”

“Tony insisted.”

“But …” Darcy looked around wildly. She didn’t have a car. She assumed it was still at the school – if it was still in one piece. She didn’t have a hotel room, as her itinerary had her scheduled to fly to Los Angeles about six hours ago. All she had were the clothes on her back and the latest edition StarkPhone. Even her bag was missing, left behind during the whole remove-yourself-from-a-hostage-situation moment. “I don’t want to,” she whispered frantically, knowing the words wouldn’t change anything, but needing to say them anyway.

“I know and I’m sorry,” Pepper soothed.

“Sorry as in there will be cupcakes waiting in my kitchen when I get home?”

“Who’s to say they aren’t there already?”

She fell asleep while waiting for the others to arrive, snagging a blanket from the medical tent and curling up on one of the quinjet’s bucket seats. She was jerked awake by Thor’s exuberant greeting, which gave her all of three seconds to prepare for his bone-crushing hug. “Lady Darcy, I am happy to know you are well!”

She buried her face in Thor’s neck, the tears she’d been fighting for hours threatening to fall as he shielded her from the team. He held her close until she was herself again, pulling back to give him a smile that wavered only slightly. He nodded his approval and set her down so she could be greeted by the others – a fist bump from Sam; a hug from Bucky with some not-so-subtle groping of her ass (totally allowed, as she got in a grab of her own); a smile from Bruce; and a nod from Natasha that meant they’d talk more when they were alone. She was picked up and swung around by Clint before he made his way to the front of the quinjet, leaving her with Tony. He eyed her critically.

“Your bonus will be deposited in your account within the hour,” he said with a definitive nod.

“Bonus? What bonus?”

“Hazard pay,” he answered as he stepped out of his suit. “Standard SI protocol with a 25 percent increase for physical injuries.” 

Darcy rolled her eyes, familiar with Tony’s method of using money to show he cared without having to actually say the words. She gave up trying to make him talk about feelings long ago, his stark (pun not intended) panic at the implication that she would even consider doing so convincing her that Tony’s emotional growth was not her problem.

“You’re hurt?”

She was not prepared for Steve’s sudden appearance in front of her, taking an automatic step back as his gaze zoomed in on the dark bruise marring her face. She watched his eyes shift from scared to angry, the blue darkening as he struggled to maintain his control. He pushed the cowl off his head, his fingers running through his mussed hair. Anyone else would think he was trying to make it lay flat. She knew better.

“Don’t,” she snapped.

He ignored her warning. “I told you this was going to happen! Damn it, Darcy; you could have been killed!” 

Her hand connected with his cheek, the skin-on-skin slap resonating throughout the jet. She took perverse pleasure in the sight of her reddening handprint on his skin even if it wouldn’t last long. “First of all, you never said I would be taken hostage as a charitable liaison for Stark Industries. Second, you lost the right to even _think_ you could tell me what to do when you broke up with me!”

She stomped away as well as she could in the confined space, taking the seat furthest from where Steve stood. Her cheek was throbbing, but she’d never tell him. Her hand hurt like hell, too. 

Her phone chimed.

_Tony: A bonus for putting Cap in his place was deposited in your account._

The rest of the flight was uneventful. Darcy forced herself to close her eyes and not give into the urge to look at Steve even though being this close to him after so long apart was torture. He looked the same. It wasn’t fair. Super soldier serum aside, couldn’t he look a little less than perfect? Was that really asking too much?

She was the first person off the quinjet, barely pausing to hug Pepper and Jane before walking into the tower. She knew the others would have to debrief and was grateful for it. It was exhausting pretending she was fine. She wanted to be alone. She needed to be alone. She gave her statement to Natasha during the flight and was told any follow-up questions could wait until morning. She took that as permission to run to her apartment. She told herself she wasn’t hiding. She was regrouping. She was going to take a shower, stuff about 3,000 worth of sugary calories in her mouth and sleep until Steve was back at the Avengers training facility where he belonged.

She was wrapped in her worn but much-loved terrycloth robe, her wet hair twisted in a towel on top of her head turban-style, and consuming cupcakes like it was her job when there was a knock on her door. Pushing herself off the couch, she shuffled to answer it, her small feet dwarfed in the Hulk slippers Bruce gave her for Christmas. “Jane, I’m fine,” she said as she opened the door. “I promise tomorrow we can …”

Steve’s face was unreadable. “Not Jane.” He held up her bag. It was dirty, the shoulder strap torn and there was a hole in the right-hand corner she was pretty sure came from a bullet, but it was hers. “Um, I found this when we did a final sweep. I was going to give it to you on the flight home, but … “ he shrugged, his lips turning up in a not-quite smile as he handed it to her.

“Thank you." She winced at the formality of her tone.

“You’re welcome.”

She hugged her bag to her chest, her version of his shield as she stared at him, part of her wanting to slam the door in his face before she did something stupid, the other part wanting to grab him by his shirt and drag him inside before he disappeared again. No. She couldn’t think like that. It was stupid. Idiotic. Reckless. He broke her heart once. She wouldn’t let him do it again.

“Darcy.” He swallowed, his eyes looking everywhere but at her as he struggled for what to say next. He clenched his hands, the muscles in his arms flexing with the movement. God, she missed those arms. She missed feeling them around her, under her, watching how they'd hold him up when he was over her.

“Fuck it,” she declared, throwing her bag to the floor. His lips were on hers before it even touched the ground.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW.
> 
> You've been warned.

They fell to floor, Steve’s reflexes kicking in so his body took the brunt of the impact with Darcy sprawled on top of him. The towel wrapped around her hair loosened, sliding forward but not quite off, and he struggled to untwist it. He tugged, the cloth pulling on her hair and she moaned, making his movements all the more frantic as he finally got her free, tossing the towel over his head before his hands sank into her damp hair. With a groan, he brought her forward, his head coming up off the floor to meet her halfway.

“Darcy,” he whispered just before kissing her like a man starved. It wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t smooth. It was rough and frantic, sloppy and wet. He kissed along her jawline, sucking hard, likely leaving marks. She didn’t care. She arched her neck, giving him better access, sighing when he kissed where her neck met her shoulder, practically purring when he bit, then licked the tender spot. “Do you want this? Tell me if you don’t. If you tell me to stop, I’ll stop.”

He would. She knew that. He was a man of conviction, a man of honor. If she said stop, he’d pull away, help her to her feet and leave. She’d be alone. Again. Still. This was a terrible idea. She knew this didn’t change anything, knew that when it was over, that they weren’t getting back together. She didn’t care. She was miserable without him now, she’d be miserable without him tomorrow – but at least she’d have the memory of one last time.

“Darcy?”

She shook her head, her hands cupping his face, his ridiculously good-looking, stupidly handsome face, her fingers unconsciously stroking the area she’d slapped earlier. “Don’t stop,” she murmured. “Please, God, don’t stop.”

For a second, one terrifyingly long second, it looked like he would. She could practically see the wheels turning in his head, so she did what any woman would do. She straddled his hips, untied the robe at her waist and pushed the heavy material off her shoulders, smiling smugly when Steve practically growled at the sight of her naked body on top of his. He pushed himself to a sitting position, cradling her in his lap as he kissed her fiercely, desperately, his hands stroking her skin.

“Now,” he demanded as her shaking fingers attacked his shirt, tugging and pulling. “Right now.”

“Yes,” she moaned as one of his hands slowly slid down front of her body, between her breasts, over her stomach to her very core. It was his turn to smirk as the pad of his thumb stroked between her legs, finding her wet and ready.

“Is this for me, baby?” he asked as nimble fingers explored her folds, gathering moisture and spreading it around. She bit her lip as his thumb and forefinger circled her clit, her hips meeting his touch. “Answer me, Darce. You know I like to hear you talk.”

She whimpered, unable to focus to do more than that. She was so close already. Just a few more seconds, a bit more pressure and she’d be there. She raised herself to her knees, giving him better access. Doing so also brought her breasts closer to his mouth, a decision they both were happy with once he got his lips around a nipple. He sucked it gently into his mouth, holding it there with his teeth as his tongue worked the tip until it was hard as stone, his hand never ceasing in its stroking as he slid one finger into her. “That’s my girl,” he crooned, chucking when she grabbed his face and pushed him towards her other breast. “It’s OK, sweetheart,” he hummed, mouthing at her pale flesh. “I've got you.”

She gasped as he slid a second finger inside, his thumb now brushing over her clit in a firm and consistent rhythm. She was practically riding his hand, her knees digging into the ceramic floor of her kitchen, but she didn’t care. “God, Steve,” she arched her back, her eyes squeezed shut as she felt the familiar tremble of her body preparing for release. “So close! I’m so close! Don’t stop. Don’t you fucking dare stop!”

“Come on, baby,” he said. “Let me see you come. God, I’ve missed seeing your face when you come. So fuckin’ gorgeous. Prettiest sight in the whole damn world,” he said before pulling her nipple into his mouth. “Look at me,” he demanded, the words muffled. 

Her eyes locked with his. His face was red with exertion, with need, as he worked her body, his lips sucking and biting her skin as she rode his hand. “Oh God … yes! Please! Steve, I’m gonna ...”

She was gone before her brain could think of the right words, her body breaking over his. She clutched his shoulders, panting as his fingers slowed, bringing her down gently before he finally slid them free. She watched as he brought them to his lips, slowly sucking the moisture that clung to them with a delighted moan. 

“Sweetness and spice – just like you.”

She rolled her eyes and started pushing his shirt off his shoulders. “You’re wearing too many clothes.” 

He simply grinned at her, somehow rolling to his feet with her in his arms as if she weighed nothing. “In time,” he promised as he carried her to the bedroom, her legs wrapped around his waist. “But first I want to taste you.”

“You just did,” she argued as he laid her down on what was once their bed, his large hands wrapped around her ankles as he tugged her closer to the edge of the mattress.

“That was a sample.” He dropped to his knees, working his large shoulders between her legs. He slid his hands under her bottom, kneading the soft flesh as he lifted her closer to his mouth.

“Now,” he breathed, licking right at the center of her. “I want more.” He put his mouth on her, sucking and licking every bit of evidence from her first orgasm before lifting her legs over his shoulder. “I’m gonna get you back there,” he promised. “Gonna make you feel so good, you come screaming my name.”

“Wanna bet?” she sassed though part of her already dying. He liked to do this, liked to build her up, see how far he could push her before she toppled into pleasure. 

He didn’t bother with words, his mouth saying everything as he stroked and sucked, nibbled and lapped. His found all the familiar places that made her sigh, made her moan, made her grip his hair in her hands and practically levitate off the bed. “That’s so good,” she told him, not even caring at the naked need in her voice. It wasn’t a secret. He knew what he did to her, what he always did to her. “Yes,” she hissed as his tongue circled her clit. “Just like that, baby; just like that.”

She didn’t scream his name when she came. She said it on a long, drawn out sigh, practically dreamy. When he looked like he was going to try again, she shook her head fiercely. “Need you,” she told. “Please, Steve, I need you inside me.”

He stripped quickly, his clothes falling to the floor at the edge of the bed with barely a rustle, staring at her the whole time. He crawled over her, one arm snaking around her waist to pull her along with him until their heads rested along the pillows piled at the top of the bed. He used to joke about how many would be on the floor in the morning, Darcy preferring to rest her head on him instead. She blinked away the memory as he brushed her hair away from her face. The next kiss was slow, sweet, the urgency from before gone. She tasted herself on him and it made the need building inside her that much greater. 

It was time to take over, to show him what he was missing. Darcy pressed her hands against his chest, pushing until he flopped to his back. She wasted no time climbing on top of him, her hands trailing over smooth skin and hard muscle. She used to spend hours exploring his body, marveling over the sheer perfection of it while he’d blush and tell stories of childhood ailments. So often she tried to leave her mark, her lips working over him until they were swollen, only to watch the bruise fade away within minutes. She’d pout and he’d laugh, telling her he didn’t need physical proof to know he belonged to her.

_“I was yours the moment I met you, Darcy Lewis.”_

She blinked back tears. She didn’t want to remember that, remember anything that would make this moment more than it was. She wasn’t that Darcy anymore. He wasn’t that Steve.

“Darcy?” He shifted below her, blue eyes narrowing in concern. She shook her head, fighting against his arms coming up to hold, to sooth. No. That’s not what this is. “Sweetheart, we don’t – Christ!”

She didn’t let him finish, lifting herself up and over him, aligning their bodies perfectly before sliding down, taking every inch of him. God, how could she forget how big he was? She was so full. She could already feel her body fluttering around his length.

“God, you feel amazing,” he groaned, his hands resting on her hips. “Like you were fucking made for me.”

She wanted to be still, to memorize the feel on him inside her, but the urge to move, to chase after what she knew was waiting for her was too strong. There’d been no one since him. She wondered, briefly, if he’d been with anyone since her. The team (OK, Tony and, surprisingly, Bruce) loved to gossip, but Pepper must have sent out a memo because no one mentioned Steve in her presence. She rocked onto him, hips rolling as she tried to get closer. His fingers flexed, digging into her skin. She knew he wanted her to move, but she wasn’t ready. Not yet. She didn’t want this to end.

“Darcy,” he begged, “baby, _please_. I need you.”

“How much?” The words were out before she could stop them. He stilled underneath her. She bit her lip. She told herself she wouldn’t react to whatever he said. She asked. She couldn’t get upset about the answer.

“There’s been no one since you.”

It was like his words opened a dam. She lifted herself up, so high she almost lost him, and dropped down, reveling in his tortured groan. She did it again and again, harder and faster. She felt him plant his feet on the bed, lifting his hips to meet her on the down stroke and God it felt amazing! She opened her mouth to tell him, but all she could do was moan. Her head dropped forward, the ends of her hair trailing over his chest. She felt his hands move from her hips, one sliding under her ass, the opposite thumb slipping between them to nudge at her clit. She faltered, her hips slowing a little, but he was there, his hand underneath her guiding her up and down along his cock.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he sounded desperate, like it was killing him to keep going. It made her that much wetter, pushed her that much closer to release. “Wanna watch you come again."

“Shit – Steve,” Darcy gasped, her body tensing before she let go on a long cry. Steve took that as his cue to fuck her harder and faster as the end came over him, and he emptied himself inside of her.

She lost count of how many times they came together, how many times he made her come, how many times he followed her into pleasure. He took her from behind, his large hands holding her close, fingers splayed across her chest and throat as he whispered in her ear all the ways he wanted to have her. They fucked in the shower, Steve pinning her hands above her head as he mouthed at her breasts. She paid him back by dropping to her knees and sucking him, her eyes locked with his as she swallowed his release. They raided her kitchen for food, then Darcy found herself laying across the table as Steve ate her, refusing to stop until she screamed. When he flopped back in his chair with a smug smile, she climbed onto his lap and rode him until she saw stars and his speech was reduced to nothing more than her name. They fell into her bed sweaty and exhausted, reeking of sex, but he still he found the energy to roll her underneath him, to slide into her so slow and so soft. He was gentle as he rocked into her, mindful of her sore, tired body. His weight pressed her into the mattress, his breath hot on her neck. She ran her fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp, giggling as he arched into her touch. He pulled away, just a little, so he could brace his hands on either side of her head, their eyes locked together as they moved against each other and she swore, in that moment, she saw everything she felt for him reflected in his gaze.

She was smiling when she closed her eyes a few minutes later, her body spent. Steve was a warm, solid presence at her back, his arm heavy over her waist as he tugged her closer. Before, this was when she’d whisper “I love you” and he’d say it back, usually with a quick press of his lips to her neck. Not this time. She didn’t say the words. Neither did he, but she did feel his kiss. She told herself that was enough, it had to be, and fell asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Darcy wasn’t stupid. Yes, she’s made her fair share of less-than-wise decisions, but she always owned up to them. So when she woke up alone the next morning, the side of the bed where Steve had slept cool to her touch, she allowed herself five minutes of burying her face in his pillow, inhaling the familiarity of his scent, before she tossed the covers aside, got up, and stripped the bed of all evidence of their night together. The marks dotting her skin weren’t as easy to eliminate, but they would fade with time, just like her resolve would grow. She probably wouldn’t get over him. She hadn’t before and seriously doubted her ability to succeed a second time around, but just because Steve Rogers decided not to be part of her life didn’t mean her life was over. She had her friends, she had her work and, thanks to Tony’s generosity, she had a tidy sum in her checking account that could easily accommodate brunch with her best friend followed by some much needed therapeutic shopping.

She was going to be fine. 

Darcy repeated the mantra to herself as she got ready for the day, slipping into a black-and-white striped maxi dress, black Converse sneakers and her favorite jean jacket. She said it again over waffles and mimosas with Jane, while trying on shoes (and buying a gorgeous pair of leather platform boots that added three inches to her height), and just before she conned Tony, Bruce and Pepper into playing Monopoly with her that night. Darcy stumbled into her apartment around two in the morning, exhausted. She lost the game, but that was to be expected. It wasn’t about winning. It was about killing time, filling the hours, keeping her mind busy because of she didn’t, if she stopped for one second to think about what she lost. Again.

Darcy fell face-forward on her bed, made up with the new sheets she bought during her shopping expedition. One day down; the rest of her life to go.

She was going to be fine.

* * *

 

She was not going to be fine. 

Darcy stared at the plastic stick in her hand. A plus sign. A bright blue plus sign. The stupid thing didn’t even have the decency to wait the two minutes she was promised on the cardboard box. It said two minutes! She was counting on those two minutes! She was going to use them to build up her courage for whatever appeared after her cell phone chirped. She was going to use that time to appreciate not knowing what was going on with her body. She was promised two blissful minutes of ignorance. She needed those two minutes to grow up, dammit!

She was pregnant. Knocked up. With child. Expecting.

“Fuck my life,” Darcy muttered.

* * *

 

“Are you feeling better?” Jane asked. 

Darcy looked up from her cup of tea. “Huh? What? I’m fine. Why would you ask if I’m feeling better? I’m great! Awesome, even. Right as rain, whatever the fuck that means because rain is rarely right in my opinion. Who comes with all that weird shit anyway and why do we keep saying it?”

Jane turned the page in her notebook, snatching a piece of toast off Darcy’s plate. “You’re drinking tea, there’s no jelly on this and yesterday you threw up after lunch.”

“It was bad sushi.”

“We ate subs.”

“Right,” Darcy backtracked. “The bad sushi was from the night before.”

“So you’re feeling better?”

“Yeah. Thanks for asking.”

* * *

 

She did the math. It wasn’t difficult. It wasn’t like the night she had with Steve was one she’d soon forget. Six weeks. It simultaneously felt like more and less. Darcy didn’t know what to do. She knew her options. She knew she was lucky to have options. What she didn’t have was time. Every day she delayed making a decision put her one day closer to losing one of her options. It also pushed the boundaries of keeping her secret a secret. She lived with spies. She had no illusions that one of them wouldn’t figure it out soon. If Jane – sweet, adorable Jane who often had her head among the stars – noticed something was different about her, it was only a matter of time before someone else did, too.

How the hell did someone make this decision? It wasn’t like choosing which takeout restaurant to order from or even which college to attend. This was the most life-altering decision she’d ever make – and it wouldn’t only affect her! If she had this child, she would be responsible for another human life. Her! The woman who once killed a cactus!

Darcy had no experience to examine. She was an only child. Her parents were only children. She didn’t grow up with younger siblings or cousins. She baby sat for her neighbor when she was 13, but Connor was a rambunctious seven-year-old; not an infant. 

“You’d be a great mother.”

Darcy didn’t even bother to sigh as she closed her copy of _What to Expect When You’re_ _Expecting_. “How long have you known?”

Natasha settled herself on the couch next to Darcy. “You’re coffeemaker is set to turn on at six every morning. You drink two cups before you make your way to the communal kitchen where you consume your third while eating a bowl of Frosted Flakes. If it’s a new box, you snag the prize even if it isn’t your turn in the rotation and blame it on Tony. You stopped drinking coffee 11 days ago.”

“Stalker much?”

“Observant.”

Darcy leaned back and propped her feet up on her coffee table, crossing them at the ankles. She folded her hands and rested them over her still flat stomach. She wondered how much longer she’d have before she’d start showing. “Does anyone else know?”

Natasha shook her head. She rested her hand on the book Darcy set on the couch cushion. “May I?”

“Have at it,” Darcy said with a heavy sigh. “It’s not like there’s a chapter called What To Do When Captain America Invades Your Ovaries.”

“You didn’t use protection?”

Darcy twisted the silver ring she wore on her pinkie. “I was on the pill. I take it before I go to bed; religiously. Or, you know, when I’m not being held by gunpoint,” she finished with a bitter laugh. “One pill. I missed one.” She buried her face in her hands. “Fucking super soldier sperm.”

She felt Natasha’s arm around her. She leaned into her friend’s embrace. “Whatever you decide to do, Darcy, you’re not alone.”

* * *

 

Girls’ Night was a sacred tradition at the tower. It did not involve dressing up, alcohol or hitting the town, though Darcy, Jane, Natasha and Pepper have done that many times. This was a different kind of girls’ night. It happened once a month and low-key was the name of the game.

Pajamas instead of dresses. Fuzzy socks; not high heels. Junk food rather than hors d’oeuvres. The focus of the night was sisterhood in its purest form, also known as girly movies, nail polish and ice cream, a tradition Darcy launched after learning that she was the only woman in residence to attend a slumber party when she was younger.

Darcy always looked forward to Girls’ Night, but she was anxious this one in particular. She had news. She pressed a hand against her stomach and took a deep breath. She had news. “You are going to have the coolest set of aunts ever, kiddo.” 

She was keeping the baby. She didn’t even realize it herself until that afternoon. She was in her office, reading through the latest batch of essays for the SI scholarship fund, when her assistant approached her desk holding an oversized padded envelope. Inside was a pile of fabric. Darcy stood up, shaking out the colorful pieces to reveal a quilt.

 _“It’s beautiful,” Morgan said, her fingers going out to touch the soft fabric, a collection of_ _different patterns and colors. “A little small, though. Maybe it’s a lap blanket?”_

_Darcy picked up the envelope that had fallen to the floor. It was a letter from Maria’s mother, thanking Darcy for everything she did for her daughter and the other girls._

_“It is comforting to know that in times of hate and fear, kindness and bravery remain,” the woman wrote. “It is my hope that should you ever become a parent, Miss Lewis, your child will know how special his or her mother truly is.”_

_“It’s a baby blanket,” Darcy said as she skimmed the letter. “It’s made from some of the clothing the girls from the engineering program wore when they were little.” She blinked back her tears. Damn hormones. “Each one of them gave something to this."_

_Morgan’s smiled was confused. “But you don’t have a child.”_

_Darcy paused. She knew it was too soon to feel her baby. Most of the books said she probably wouldn’t feel movement until 20 weeks and she was barely at 10, but she would go to her grave swearing the felt a flutter in her stomach as Morgan’s words._

* * *

 

“Ohmigod!” Darcy was tackled to the couch by 110 pounds of exuberated astrophysicist, Jane immediately sitting up and petting Darcy all over as if her enthusiastic response had somehow dislodged the infant from her womb. Once she was satisfied everything was as it should, she tackled her again. “You’re going to be a mom! I’m going to be an aunt! And godmother!” 

“You just assume you’ll be godmother?” Natasha asked with a raised eyebrow.

Jane pushed herself to her feet. “Well, yes. I’ve known Darcy the longest.”

“I knew she was pregnant before you did,” Natasha countered.

“You wouldn’t even know her if it wasn’t for me!” Jane argued.

Pepper skirted around Jane to help Darcy up from the couch and hugged her.

“Congratulations,” she murmured. “This child is so lucky to have you.”

Darcy tightened her hold on Pepper, just for a minute. “Are you sure?” she asked, needing the other woman’s affirmation. This was Pepper Potts. If she declared something, that made it true.

“Absolutely,” she smiled. “A baby will be a piece of cake compared to taking care of Tony.” 

Dear God. Tony. What if her child was a genius? What if her child was born with Steve’s ailments pre-serum? What is her child decided dog food tasted better than cereal? Sure, she was four when that happened and she only did it once (OK, twice). Oh God. What if that did something to her insides and now it was going to hurt her baby?

“I drank!” she shouted. “The day after I conceived this baby, Jane and I had mimosas. I had wine with dinner a few times, too. And coffee! Before I knew I was pregnant, I drank a lot of coffee! Shit! My kid is going to come out a raging alcoholic with a caffeine addiction!”

“Wait – that day after you conceived ... The baby is Steve’s?”

Darcy rolled her eyes at Jane. “Who the fuck else would the father be?”

Jane shrugged. “I don’t know. Carl from human resources asked you out that one time.”

Darcy flopped onto the couch with a groan. “OK, first; Carl’s gay. He asked me out because he wanted the name of my stylist. Second: I’d never sleep with Carl on the first date! You know; if he wasn’t gay!”

“You slept with Steve and you aren’t even dating him anymore!”

“I’d been taken hostage!” Darcy argued. “You can sleep with whomever the fuck you want after a life-or-death situation!”

“True,” Jane conceded with a knowing smile. “Or you can sleep with the man you love.”

Fuck. She did not want to deal with feelings. Her emotions could not handle feelings. Darcy glared at her alleged best friend. “Not cool, Jane.” 

Jane sat next to her on the couch. “Are you going to tell him?”

Darcy shrugged, taking sudden interest in the loose thread on the hem of her pajama pants. “I don’t know. Probably. Eventually. It’s not like it can stay a secret forever. It’s just … He left because he was afraid that being with him put my life in danger. What about Captain America’s kid? You think he’s not going to freak about his child’s safety? And that’s the best-case scenario! What if … “ Darcy took a deep breath. “What if I tell him and he doesn’t care?” 

Pepper’s smile was soft. “That would never happen.”

“We never talked about children,” Darcy admitted. “Not once.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Natasha told her. “You didn’t jump for joy when you first learned you were pregnant. Does that make you a terrible person?”

“No?” Darcy questioned.

“No,” Jane confirmed. “It makes you human.”

Human. She could deal with that. “Would it be human to wait until my head is more wrapped around the idea before I tell anyone else?”

“You can do whatever you want,” Pepper said firmly. “Including giving your child more than one godmother.”

“Ooh!” Jane cried. “Princess Aurora had three godmothers! Maybe your baby can have three, too.”

“Those were fairy godmothers,” Darcy corrected.

Jane glanced at Pepper and Natasha. “Three fairies have nothing on us,” she told Darcy.

Darcy considered her words. CEO of Stark Industries. Kickass assassin. Astrophysicist genius. “You’re right. All three of you get to be godmother. And now I want to watch _Sleeping Beauty_.”

The four of them got comfortable. Darcy stretched on the couch with her feet in Jane’s lap because she was sure that would help with swelling. Natasha settled on the floor with Darcy’s collection of pregnancy books. Pepper was curled up in the armchair with her tablet. Every so often she got a dreamy smile on her face, which made Darcy think she was looking up baby items, not reading a new SI contract; or at least she hoped so. Everyone was quiet for about a half hour.

“Since I asked about being godmother first, I get to hold the baby first, right?” Jane asked. “It’s only fair.”

Darcy threw a pillow at her.


	5. Chapter 5

Darcy walked into Bruce’s lab with a drink holder from the coffee shop located on the third level of the tower’s retail floors. She waited patiently for Bruce to finish examining whatever he was looking at under the microscope, knowing that the scent of his favorite tea would drag him back to the present soon enough.

“Didn’t Pepper promote you?” he asked, accepting the cup she handed him.

“She did, but that doesn’t mean I can’t check on you from time to time, make sure the new little assistants aren’t so distracted by your brilliance that they forget you need to turn off that brain of yours every now and then.” She took a seat on the stool next to his, pleased when her compliment made Bruce grin instead of blush and look away.

“Plus you needed Tony to sign something,” Bruce added, nodding at the tablet Darcy set on the lab table.

“That, too.” She took a sip of her tea, telling herself it was coffee. Her taste buds refused to be tricked and ignored her. “He’s on another one of his no-sleep, must create kicks. I had to dig into my stash of ‘Tony has to sign this’ cards.”

The cards, of which Darcy has many with various statements (including ‘Tony will sleep for six hours’ and ‘Tony must eat a decent meal’) were created during a marathon Monopoly session.

Tony was losing, but rather than admit defeat, he scribbled promises on paper to get out of paying rent when he landed on one of Darcy’s properties. She hit the jackpot when he landed on Boardwalk WITH two hotels.

Bruce shook his head. He, too, owned a few of Tony’s cards. He was saving ‘Bruce does not have to go to Tony’s party’ for a rainy day. “Where are they sending you next?”

Darcy picked up the tablet. “India. The trip won’t happen for a few weeks yet. Feel like taking some time off and tagging along?”

“That depends,” Bruce replied. “Do you feel like telling me why you stop by my lab every afternoon?”

Darcy looked up. “What?”

“Jarvis announces visitors before they enter. It’s precautionary in case …” Bruce shrugged and took another sip of his tea.

“I did not know that.”

“My apologies, Miss Lewis,” Jarvis’ voice echoed in Bruce’s lab. “Had I known you wished your presence to be kept a secret, I would not have said anything.”

“We’re cool, J. You didn’t know.” Darcy took another sip of her tea and set the cup aside. No, it was not the sweet nectar of coffee, but it did help ease her ever-present nausea. Morning sickness. Ha!

“Is something wrong?” Bruce asked. “Can I help?”

“Um, no and yes.” Bruce looked confused. “Um, no, nothing’s wrong and yes, I need your help.” Darcy took a breath, wishing she hadn’t told Jane she was a big girl and could tell Bruce she was pregnant by herself. Better yet, Thor could break the news. He was shit with secrets on a good day and being the god of fertility, she was pretty sure he would have figured it out before she did, but he was on Asgard for some sort of intergalactic peace-keeping mission.

“Darcy?”

“I’m pregnant.”

“You’re WHAT?!” Tony shouted.

Darcy’s head whipped from Tony standing in the doorway of Bruce’s lab with his mouth wide open to Bruce, who was obviously trying to pretend he wasn’t shocked by Darcy’s outburst but failing miserably. “I thought you said Jarvis announces your visitors!”

“Not Tony,” Bruce said.

“Not me,” Tony replied at the same time.

“Oh God,” Darcy groaned.

* * *

"It could have been worse.” 

Darcy didn’t bother looking up as she added a third scoop of ice cream to her bowl. Fuck the baby books and their judgmental chapters about pregnancy weight gain. She had a shit day and if she wanted to drown her sorrows in Ben & Jerry’s, she damn well could. “We better have whipped cream,” she warned as she opened the industrial-sized refrigerator.

Jane dug through the canvas bag Darcy brought back from the pharmacy. In addition to several cartons of ice cream and celebrity gossip magazines were the pre-natal vitamins Bruce prescribed. “But you got what you wanted,” Jane pointed out. “Bruce agreed to be your OB.”

“He’s not thrilled about it,” Darcy admitted. “He started his whole ‘I’m not that kind of doctor’ lecture, but then I told him I’m worried what kind of impact the serum could have on the baby and … “ Darcy shrugged and squirted whipped cream on top of her ice cream, not stopping until she had the perfect ice cream to whipped cream ratio.

“You appealed to his scientific curiosity.” Jane looked pleased. “I’m so proud.”

“I would be, too, but now Tony’s scientific curiosity is peaked, too.”

Jane helped herself to a bite of Darcy’s ice cream. “Why? He hates hearing about the serum.” 

“But he loves knowing Steve isn’t a Goody Two Shoes.”

“Fuck, I could’ve told him that,” Bucky swung into the kitchen in jeans and a black T-shirt, his damp hair combed back from his face. He pulled Darcy into a one-armed hug, planting a kiss on her cheek and pinching her ass before snagging her ice cream. Hopping up on the counter, he started eating.

“That’s rude,” Darcy told him.

“Sorry, dollface. Just got back with Barton and Hill made us debrief first thing. ‘M fucking starving.”

“That’s ‘cause you two are shit for getting your reports turned in on time without Nat or someone riding you,” Darcy told him, but she got out the leftover roast chicken from the other night and started making Bucky a sandwich. Jane gave her their ‘We’ll talk later’ look and left the kitchen. Bucky watched the exchange without comment, but his eyes narrowed on the pill bottle Jane left on the counter.

“What’s that?” He jumped down to snag it before Darcy could. “Are you sick?” She tried to snatch it from him, but he held it over his head, batting her hands away effortlessly while he read the label. “Pre-natal vitamins …” He looked at Darcy. He looked at her stomach. He looked at her again, his mouth set in a grim line. “Steve?" 

Darcy bit her lip and looked away. She had yet to figure out how she was going to tell Steve she was pregnant, but the plan was to clue him in before telling any of the others. Bruce was the exception. The more she read about what pregnancy could and would do to her body, the more she wanted someone with experience about the serum, but she was totally going to hold him to patient-doctor confidentiality. As it was, she had to give Tony the rest of her ‘Tony has to sign this’ cards to buy his silence.

“I’ll kill him,” Bucky threatened.

“Who are we killing?” Clint wandered into the kitchen, his eyes lighting up on the bowl of ice cream Bucky left sitting on the counter. He grabbed it, opened the silverware drawer for a spoon and started eating.

“You’re not killing anyone,” Darcy said.

“Steve.” Bucky contradicted.

Clint swallowed another spoonful of ice cream. “OK. We might want to get Tasha on board, too; even the odds in our favor.”

“No one is killing Steve!” Darcy shouted.

“He got you pregnant!” Bucky growled.

“He did what?!?” Clint exclaimed. “When? Where? How?” 

Darcy closed her eyes. She was getting a headache. That was bad. She couldn’t take anything for headaches. “There’s only one way to make a baby, Clint,” she sighed.

“But Steve … it’s Steve’s, right?” He turned to Bucky who nodded sharply. “Are you back together?”

Bucky’s murderous look cleared instantly. “Well shit, doll, why didn’t you say something?” He pulled her into a hug. “This is great!” He pulled away, a stupid grin on his face. “I’m gonna be an uncle! Uncle Buck. It’s got a nice ring to it, don’t you think?" 

Clint laughed and pulled Darcy out of Bucky’s hold and into his. “Go with Uncle James,” he advised. “Trust me on this one.” He rested his chin on top of Darcy’s head. “A baby …” he murmured. “Hey, can I be godfather?”

“Why do you get to be godfather?” Bucky demanded.

“I’ve known Darcy longer,” Clint told Bucky as Darcy pulled herself out of his arms and picked up the bowl of abandoned ice cream. There was still a little left.

“I’ve known Steve since 1927; try again.” Bucky crossed his arms over his chest.

Darcy finished the ice cream as Bucky and Clint continued to argue. Tony made a plea for godfather, too. His came with the promise of a full college tuition for the baby and a pony for Darcy.

“I’m gonna text Steve. He’ll settle this.” Bucky pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket.

Darcy had it in her hands and was on the other side of the breakfast bar in seconds.

“Sorry, Bucky. You can’t text Steve.” Darcy gripped his phone so tight, her knuckles were white.

“Why not?”

“Um … ‘cause he doesn’t know about the baby.”

Both men looked pissed. Bucky turned to Clint. “We’re back to killing him.”

* * *

"You’re an ass.” Darcy’s glare was wasted on Bucky. He was too busy going through her closet and tossing clothes on her bed to look at her. “I’m not going to the training facility,” she told him. “You can’t make me.”

“Steve has a right to know about his kid.” 

Darcy wrapped her arms around herself protectively. “I wasn’t hiding it.” She flinched under

Bucky’s glare. “OK, I was, but I wasn’t going to forever. All the books say to wait until you get past the first trimester before you tell people. You know, in case something happens.”

Bucky leaned against Darcy’s dresser. “And you’re how far along; 15 weeks?”

“How’d you –”

“Who do you think drove back with Steve the day after South America?” Bucky asked. “He was a goddamned mess.”

“It was his idea to end things,” Darcy muttered mulishly.

“Yeah and I told him he was a fucking idiot for doing so.” Bucky pulled open Darcy’s underwear drawer. She shoved him aside and slammed it closed. “Doll, you made him happier than I’ve ever seen him. It killed him to walk away from you.”

“Then why’d he do it?”

Bucky sighed and sat on the edge of Darcy’s bed. “We got some intel. Coulson’s team checked it out. It … there were photos, OK? Photos of Steve, photos of you, some of ‘em had you together, most had you alone. It was a threat, Darcy. A message that they could get to you, hurt him through you.”

“Who’s they?” Darcy asked.

Bucky’s laugh was bitter. “Who aren’t they? Hydra. AIM. Some fucking terrorist group we don’t have a name for yet. Who cares? The fact is they were close enough to get surveillance on you.”

“So what?” Darcy asked. “Steve decides since being with him put the target on my back, him leaving will take it away? I live in Avengers tower! I work for Stark Industries! I get pedicures with the Black Widow!”

“You’re not telling me anything I haven’t said to Stevie,” Bucky replied, looking frustrated. “It’s like talking to a brick wall. He’s spent the last 18 months trying to eradicate every threat out there. He’s practically a machine, doll. Punk’s gonna kill himself if he doesn’t stop.”

Darcy told herself she wasn’t scared for Steve. He could take care of himself. He sure as hell made it clear he didn’t need her help doing so. “And what? You think telling him he’s going be a dad won’t push him over the edge?”

“You wanna know the answer to that, you gotta tell him first.”

“What if it does the opposite?” she asked. “What if instead of being ultra-protective dad-to-be, he runs?”

Bucky rose to his feet. “Steve’s never run from anything.”

“There’s a first time for everything.”

“Then he’s dumber than I’ve been telling him all his life.” Bucky rested his hands on Darcy’s shoulders. “Look. I’m not saying it’s gonna be easy. I’m not saying you tell him and suddenly everything’s perfect. Life doesn’t work that way. But I know he loves you and I know he’s going to love that baby. Yeah, he’s gonna be scared and he’s going to worry and he’s going to hover, and you’re going to want to strangle him, but you’ve gotta ask yourself if it’s worth it. If the answer’s yes, then you make it work.”

He made his way to her bedroom door. “You’re right; I can’t make you go to the training facility and tell him, so I’m asking. Will you come with me to give Steve the news?” 

Darcy glanced at the partially-packed bag on her bed. “I’m not spending the night,” she told

Bucky. “I’ll go and I’ll talk to Steve, but I don’t want to stay.”

Bucky’s smile made Darcy wonder if that was his plan all along. “Great. Let’s go.”


	6. Chapter 6

Bucky’s hand was tight on Darcy’s as he guided her though the halls of the Avengers training facility. At first she thought he was being a gentleman, helping her from the car, his hand resting on her back as he led her to from the underground parking garage to the upper levels of the imposing building, but then he said “We’re here” and she paused, for just a second, and he took that as an invitation to reach out and not let go.

The ride upstate was uneventful. They took Natasha’s car, as Bucky only had his motorcycle which he refused to let Darcy ride “in her condition,” so Darcy made a point of burrowing into the passenger seat as if she was going to sleep the entire time. But then she did fall asleep because pregnancy is exhausting, so her silent treatment was wasted.

“Wait,” Darcy planted her feet. She took a deep breath and glanced down. She chose the olive green wrap dress because it did a fairly decent job camouflaging her expanding stomach and it went well with her new boots.

“You look gorgeous,” Bucky said as she ran her hand through her hair – just the one because Bucky was still holding her right hand hostage. She rolled her eyes to show him she didn’t care, but squeezed his hand in thanks as he pushed open the steel doors.

To call the large space a gym would be an understatement. Darcy looked around, awed that there was something that made the gym at the tower look like amateur hour. The west side of the room was a climbing wall that extended into the ceiling! “Is Spider-Man joining the team?” she asked, head arched as she tried to see how much of the ceiling the wall covered.

“He wishes,” Bucky muttered before shouting out. “Hey punk!”

The clank of metal-on-metal was the only warning Darcy has before Steve appeared from behind some sort of contraption that resembled a Bowflex machine on steroids, his smile of greeting falling as he realized who was with Bucky. “What happened?” Steve rushed towards them, his face pinched with worry as he reached out to touch Darcy, then abruptly stopped. He turned to Bucky. “Is everything OK? Why is she here?”

It was the ‘she’ that did it. Not Darcy; she. Forget that _she_ was the one to get him out of the tower and into the real world. Forget that _she_ was the one to clue him in on all of Tony’s references without making him feel stupid. Forget that _she_ was totally on his side when he brought Bucky home, scary assassin past be damned. Forget that _she_ was the one who comforted him when nightmares tore him from sleep, the one who held him when a mission went badly, the one to take care of him when he needed a break from taking care of the world.

“Hey!” Darcy snapped her fingers inches from Steve’s face. “ _She_ is right here and she can hear you.”

“The last time I asked if you were hurt, you slapped me.” Steve’s voice was tight.

She had the sudden urge to do so again. “You didn’t ask me if I was hurt. You yelled at me for something that was not my fault!”

“Well, this is going well.” Bucky released Darcy’s hand and took a step back. “I’m gonna let you two continue your conversation in private.”

Darcy snagged Bucky’s arm. “Nice try, Thing Two. This was your idea. You’re staying. I might need a witness.”

Steve heaved a frustrated sigh. “Darcy, if this is about me leaving after we …” He glanced at Bucky who shrugged his shoulders and tried to look like he wasn’t enjoying his best friend’s awkwardness. “Look, that night, I was upset and you were … upset and we … “ He trailed off. In another life, Darcy would have taken pity on him. Now, she tapped her booted foot and waited. “I’m sorry,” he finally said.

“For which part?” Darcy tilted her head. “Sleeping with me or running out in the middle of the night?”

Steve glanced at Bucky. “Does he really need to be here?”

Darcy nodded. “You’re lucky it’s just Bucky. Clint wanted to come, too.”

Now Steve looked confused. “Why would Clint … Jesus, Darcy, how many people know about that night?!”

“Right now, only a few, but that number’s going to grow.”

“Darcy,” Bucky said warningly.

“Do not take that tone with me,” she threatened. “You’re the one who made me come up here.”

“Wait – why are you here? Bucky, what’s going on?”

“Stop asking him!” Darcy shouted. “I’m right fucking here! Stop pretending I don’t exist and – “ Oh no. She clamped her hand over her mouth. No, no, no, no, no.

Steve looked panicked. “Darcy?”

She turned towards Bucky. He put two and two together, grabbed her hand and ran to locker room, crashing through the door. He manhandled Darcy into a bathroom stall seconds before she expunged everything she’d eaten that day. She flushed the toilet and made a mental note to add ice cream to the ever-growing list of foods her unborn child hated. This kid was so grounded once it was born.

“Darcy?” Steve’s voice was hesitant.

“Do not come in here!”

He ignored her, stepping into the stall and kneeling at her back, his large hands lifting her hair away from her face. She heard water running nearby and Bucky murmuring something to Steve before a damp towel was pressed against her neck. “Better?” Steve asked.

It was, but she wasn’t ready to admit it. She stayed where she was, body braced over the toilet in case junior decided what she had for dinner Tuesday night needed to go, too. “Thank you,” she finally said.

“You’re welcome.” His voice was cautious. “Are you … are you sick? Have you caught something?”

Bucky’s snort echoed in the locker room. Darcy chuckled a little. This was ridiculous. The entire situation was ridiculous. Last night, she and Jane had watched gender reveal videos on YouTube, laughing at the couples who had pink or blue balloons floating out of cardboard boxes, or elaborate cakes with the words ‘It’s a boy!’ in bright blue frosting. Darcy would never admit how jealous she was that their pregnancies were something to celebrate while hers could potentially destroy Captain America.

Hydra would be so proud.

“Darcy?”

“Oh, I caught something,” she sighed, dragging the towel off her neck so she could blot her face. So much for looking pretty. In addition to grounding her unborn child, she was going to chaperone every middle school dance.

There was a pause before Steve asked, “Is it serious?”

She snickered and moved to get to her feet, grateful for Steve’s help as he led her out of the bathroom stall. Bucky handed over her purse. She rooted through it for her toothbrush and toothpaste, the constant puking doing wonders for her dental hygiene.

“Better tell him, doll, before he starts planning your funeral,” Bucky advised.

“Tell me what?”

“I’m not sick.” Darcy turned to Steve. “I mean, I get sick, but it’s just a symptom.”

Steve looked confused. “Of what?”

Darcy swallowed. Now or never. “Pregnancy,” she blurted.

She always thought the expression ‘It was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop’ was stupid, but in that moment, she got it. Steve was staring at her, mouth agape. Bucky was silent, his gaze fixated on Steve. Darcy glanced down at her toothbrush and toothpaste. “Yeah … I’m just gonna …” She gestured at the line of sinks near the bathroom stalls. Steve didn’t say anything. He didn’t move. She glanced at him in the mirror as she brushed her teeth. Nope. Still as a statue. She caught Bucky’s eye.

“I’m going to go stand guard outside the doors, give you two some privacy,” he said. He clapped a hand on Steve’s shoulder and whispered something in his ear too quiet for Darcy to make out before he left. She placed her toothbrush in its travel container and stuck it and her toothpaste back in her purse.

“So yeah,” Darcy turned and hitched her purse higher on her shoulder, freaked by Steve’s silence. “Pregnant. Totally not expected.” He was still staring at her. “Um … I was pretty freaked out at first, too. Wasn’t sure what I was going to do, to be honest.”

“What are you going to do?” Steve asked. His voice was hoarse, as if he has to force the words out. “Are you … are you keeping it?”

She never considered the possibility Steve might think she wouldn’t have it. Yeah, abortion was an option she considered; maybe a bit longer than she was comfortable telling anyone, but not anymore. This was her baby. This was Steve’s baby. They made him or her. Their relationship might have gone up in flames, but she was not going to let that effect this kid’s life. “Yeah.” Her hands automatically press against her abdomen. “He’s a keeper.”

Steve watched, his eyes widening as her movement shifted the fabric of her dress, showcasing her baby bump. “Can I …” He stepped forward, one hand out, then stopped. “Can I touch?”

She nodded, holding still as his large hand pressed gently against her stomach. “Um, he’s not really doing much yet. I think sometimes I feel something, like a fluttering in my belly, kind of like stage fright butterflies or whatever, but the books say it’s probably too soon.”

Steve looked at her. “You keep saying ‘he.’ It’s a boy?”

Darcy shook her head. “Too soon to tell. I just say he in the generic sense. Maybe I should stop. The books say he – I mean, the baby – can hear us. No need to give the kid a complex now when I’ve got their whole life to screw up, right?”

Steve shook his head, his lips curled in a small smile. “You’ll be a great mom. Anyone who can corral all of us … a baby will be piece of cake.”

Darcy’s stomach growled at the word cake. Sighing, she reached into her purse and took out a miniature box of Cheerios. Tearing into it, she popped a handful in her mouth.

“You hate Cheerios,” Steve remarked.

“Still do,” she said as she swallowed another handful. “But it’s one of the few foods the baby doesn’t despise, so I eat ‘em.”

Steve walked over to one of the metal benches bolted to the concrete floor, gesturing for Darcy to sit before he did, turning to face her. “Are you OK?”

Darcy shrugged. “I’m tired. I don’t know if that’s a pregnancy thing or lack of caffeine thing. The nausea sucks. This baby hates all my favorite foods. Bruce says it’ll pass, but –“

“Bruce knows?”

Crap. “Yeah. I needed a doctor and figured he’d know more about the serum than some random OB, so …” She shrugged and swallowed the last few Cheerios.

“You told Bruce and you told Bucky.”

“No,” Darcy corrected. “I told Bruce. Bucky just happened to see my prenatal vitamins when Jane left them on the counter.”

“Jane knows?”

She was not a fan of his tone. “Hey, it wasn’t like you were around, OK?”

“That’s my baby, too!”

“Yeah, I know that! Why do you think I’m here?”

“You’re here because Bucky made you!”

Oh yeah. She forgot she blurted that out. “I would have told you eventually!”

“Really?” he asked. “Because the way I see it, you’ve had months to tell me.”

She got to her feet. “You want to play that game? You’re the one who decided we shouldn’t see each other anymore without telling me why! Instead of telling me about the surveillance photos, you give me the classic ‘I’m not good for you; you’re only going to get hurt’ speech and fucking disappeared!”

“I moved up here –“

“I don’t mean disappeared liked disappeared!” Darcy shouted. “I mean disappeared like leaving the tower! You broke up the family! You turned us into some damn divorced couple with shared custody of the kids. You get ‘em on missions, I get to be the one who puts ‘em back together after. And stop changing the subject! Why didn’t you tell me about the pictures?! Did you think I couldn’t handle it? If you wanted to keep me safe, wouldn’t knowing that I could be in danger help?”

“I’m taking care of it.”

“So I’ve heard.” Her laugh was bitter.

“Darcy –“

“No,” she cut him off. “You don’t get to ‘Darcy’ me. You made your choice, I made mine. What’s done is done. What happened between us that night … I knew what I was doing, OK?Don’t get all guilt-driven on me. You were there, I wanted you, you wanted me and it happened. I missed a pill and we made a baby." She took a deep breath. "Maybe instead of rehashing the past, we should just focus on that.”

Steve nodded. “That’s probably for the best.”

“Good.” She looked around. Of course she would be having a conversation of this magnitude in a superhero locker room. “So … what do we do now?”

“Well, first we get married – “

“What?!” Darcy screeched. “Back the bus up, Steve. I did not come here looking for a marriage proposal or whatever the fuck that was.”

“Darcy, I’m not letting this baby grow up without his or her father.”

“Fine,” she said. “Totally agree and support that, but that doesn’t mean we have to get married!”

“It’s the right thing to do,” Steve said stubbornly.

“No, it’s not,” she argued. “Look, I know you’re a good ol’ boy who thinks a girl in trouble needs to have a ring on her finger and a story about little junior being three months premature, but that practice is gone! People have kids outside of marriage all that time.”

Steve crossed his arms over his chest. “That doesn’t make it right.”

“Forcing two people to get married when they don’t want to isn’t right, either.”

“You don’t want to marry me?”

That was a loaded question. Two years ago, she would have had a different answer. Hell, four months ago she might have answered differently, but right now? Like this? Darcy shook her head.

“What do you want?” Steve asked.

She sat back down. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I didn’t like knowing you didn’t know about the baby. Yeah, I probably should have told you sooner, but I freaked out, OK? I didn’t know what to do and until I figured it out, I didn’t want to bother you.”

Steve scooted forward on the bench and took her hand. “I get it,” he said quietly. “I don’t like it, but I get it. I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner, but I am now. I’m going to be there for you and the baby, OK?”

She felt tears welling up in her eyes. There were nights she lay awake, wishing Steve was there with her, his strong body wrapped around hers as he whispered those exact same words – but she’d been down that road before. “You say that, Steve, and I know you mean it, but who’s to say what will happen tomorrow or next week or a month from now? You’re still you. You’re still Captain America and he has responsibilities.” He opened his mouth, but she shook her head. “No. I can forgive you for not telling me about the pictures. I can forgive for getting scared for me. In time, I’ll probably forgive you for leaving me even if you’re reasoning is idiotic, but … ” Darcy removed her hand from his. “I could never forgive you if you did that to our baby.”

“Darcy …” Steve looked heartbroken that she would even suggest he’d do something like that.

“I know,” she whispered. “That’s a shitty thing to say, but I have to be realistic. I can’t take a leap of faith and hope for the best; not with a baby. Kids need stability. This kid needs to know his – or her – dad is going to be there when he says he’s going to be there. I’m not saying stop saving the world because I want the world to be safe for our baby, but don’t tell me you’re going to be Father of the Year when we couldn’t even make our relationship work.” She got up and walked to the doors. “Just think about it, OK? I had time to figure out what I was going to do. I’m not going to get upset if you need time, too.”

“I love you.”

She turned. He was standing by the bench, shoulders hunched, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his track pants as if he needed to restrain himself from going to her. She ached to go to him, but she couldn’t. Not now. Not like this. “I know,” she nodded around the lump in her throat. “I love you, too.”

“That’s not enough?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Eighteen months,” she told him. “We’ve been apart that long. We can’t pretend it didn’t happen.”

Steve looked like he wanted to argue, but instead he sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. Darcy had a flashback to that night in their apartment, the only other time she saw him look beaten, and she swore she felt her heart crack again, but then he took a breath, straightened his shoulders, all traces of defeat gone as he slowly smiled at her. “Good thing I’ve got some time before the baby gets here to win you back.”

“I’m not a mission, Steve.”

“You’re right,” he told her. “You’re everything.”


	7. Chapter 7

Darcy was tired, a little bit carsick and emotionally spent when she dragged herself into the kitchen on the common floor. All she wanted was a glass of peppermint iced tea, some crackers and her bed.

“How’d it go?”

Darcy dropped a few ice cubes in a glass. “Fine,” she said, reaching into the refrigerator for the pitcher of tea. There was a sticky note on it that promised death and dismemberment to anyone who emptied it without brewing a new batch.

Clint leaned against the counter. “Liar.”

“Don’t use your spy skills on me.” Darcy walked around him and opened the pantry door. There was one sleeve of saltines left in the box. She made a note on the tablet stuck to the door that served as their high-tech grocery list. Jarvis would make sure more crackers were delivered the next day’s groceries.

“It’s not spy skills when you look like someone canceled _Firefly_. Again.”

“Why must you hurt me?” Darcy gathered her things and walked to the elevator.

Clint followed her. “Where are you going?”

“To bed. I need to wallow.”

“What? Why? Nap here!” he cried. “I’ll go get your pillow and blanket, and rub your feet.”

Darcy narrowed her eyes. Clint gave excellent foot rubs. She credited hours of archery practice for making his fingers so strong. But he was stingy with his talent, doling it out usually as a way to win someone over after doing something stupid. “What did you do?”

“Me?" His eyes opened wide. "Nothing.”

Oh no. “What did Tony do?”

* * *

 

He destroyed her apartment. Literally. There were open spaces where there used to be furniture. Where there used to be walls!

“Holy hell,” Clint muttered from behind Darcy’s shoulder.

“Why?” Darcy cried.

Tony looked up from his tablet. “Hey; you’re back!” He looked around with a satisfied smile. “Not bad, right?”

Darcy sat down her glass where there used to be a counter in her kitchen. It fell to the floor and shattered. Tony tutted and made a note on his tablet. “You destroyed my apartment.”

“I’m improving your apartment,” he corrected. “The space was all wrong for you and a baby. Pepper suggested I move you into a bigger suite on another floor, but why do that when I could create something new?”  
  
He had that excited bordering on crazed look in his eyes. The last time he looked like that, Bruce lost his eyebrows. She needed to handle this delicately. “Um … “ Darcy looked around. He even removed the ceramic from her kitchen floor. “I didn’t know you wanted me to stay in the tower after I had the baby.”

Tony looked up from his tablet. “Why? Where would you go?”

Darcy shrugged. Apartment hunting was on her list of things to do, but since she hated apartment hunting, that was as far as she got. “I don’t know. Somewhere better suited for a baby.”

“Lewis, I’m going to make this place a palace for a baby! We’re talking custom everything, from bathroom fixtures to lighting! I’m going to triple your square footage, install the latest child safety technology and give baby Anthony the nursery of his dreams!”

“That’s great, Tony, but this building is also a place where you build things that sometimes explode and Nat stashes knives and Clint jumps out of vents -- ”

“We wouldn’t do that around the baby,” Clint assured her.

“I’m increasing the tower’s security,” Tony added. “We could host the fucking Oscars and Anthony would never know.”

Darcy plopped onto what was once her kitchen floor. Clint settled next to her, one arm going around her shoulders. “I was only gone a few hours.”

“You know how Tony gets,” he told her. “By the way Stark, we don’t know if the baby’s a boy.”

“Fine. Antonia.” He said with a wave of his hand, already bored with the conversation.

Darcy stuffed a cracker in her mouth. What else could she do? “Is that offer for a foot rub still good?”

* * *

 

More than a week later, she was still bunking with Jane, not that living in Jane and Thor’s place was terrible. She’d done it before. Luckily, Thor was still in Asgard, so she wasn’t subjected to the pair’s enthusiastic coupling.

“How’s my apartment looking?” Darcy asked during Taco Tuesday. Everyone was lounging in the family room. Takeout bags from numerous Mexican restaurants littered the coffee table, end tables and floor. Darcy sipped her Sprite, the baby having decided tortilla chips without salsa and a plain chicken taco were suitable dinner foods. “Any chance I’ll be able to move in before the baby’s first birthday?”

Tony’s head snapped up. “His first birthday! We should totally have a circus theme! I’m thinking trapeze artists, lions, and a couple flaming hoops. Barton, you still got an in with the old family?”

Clint gave Tony the finger.

“Rude.”

Pepper leaned over Tony to give Darcy a reassuring smile. “I’ve made Tony promise that everything will be finished by the time you return from India. In fact, I thought we could go shopping this weekend for the baby’s room. Furniture, bedding, layettes.”

“What’s a layette?” Jane asked, for which Darcy was grateful because she had no idea.

“Mostly clothing, but sometimes linen and toiletry items,” Natasha answered.

“How do you know that?” Tony asked.

“Intelligence.”

“It’s so sweet that all of you are treating my unborn child like a mission.” Darcy decided to risk swiping a bite of Bruce’s Mexican rice. It smelled amazing! She swallowed a forkful. She was off the couch in seconds and running for the bathroom. Everyone watched her leave with varying degrees of concern.

“Should she be puking that much?” Clint asked.

Bruce took out his tablet. “Morning sickness affects everyone differently,” he said, typing something quickly before setting it aside.

“My new goal in life is to find the jerkwad who named it morning sickness and taze his ass,” Darcy announced, flopping onto the oversized armchair with a weary sigh. Jane passed over an economy-sized box of Cheerios, one of several Steve had delivered to Jane’s apartment on Saturday.

Steve's campaign to “win her back” started immediately after she left the Avengers training facility. He first contacted Bruce with a request to be notified of her upcoming appointments so he could be there -- with her permission. Darcy said fine, thinking Bruce would have a better understanding of what the serum was or wasn’t doing to her and her child if he could question Steve, too. Then he reached out to Jane to learn more about what foods made Darcy sick and which ones did not. When she let it slip that Natasha, Pepper, Clint and Tony knew about the baby, too, he texted Natasha to request a list of all Darcy’s pregnancy books so he could catch up on his reading. Darcy knew this because Steve copied her on all of his correspondence. Then there were the presents. Flowers were delivered to her office. A giant stuffed teddy bear the size of a three-year-old arrived at Jane’s apartment. Darcy made Jarvis promise that he’d never tell anyone the card – _Love, Daddy_ – made her cry for 15 minutes. He found out which tea helped her nausea and had that sent to the tower along with the Cheerios. He read that lavender could be soothing and had a gift basket of lavender candles, soap, bubble bath and lotion delivered, too. He was called away for a mission four days after her visit, but he found a way to e-mail or text her every day to say he was thinking of her.

_Darcy: You’re using a secure line just to say ‘Hi?’ Is that even allowed?_

_Steve: What are they going to do; fire me?_

She wasn’t caving. She was serious when she said that if Steve was going to be a part of the baby’s life, she needed his commitment to be 100 percent with the understanding that they’d work around world-saving emergencies.

But it was nice to be spoiled.

* * *

 

Darcy liked shopping. She thought she was good at it. Then she met Pepper Potts and realized she was only an amateur while Pepper was the president, queen and all-around gold medal winner, with Natasha a close second. The two of them walked into Giggle on the Upper West Side while Darcy took an automatic step back, bumping into Jane who promptly dropped her coffee.

“No!” Jane cried sadly as the liquid colored the pavement. Darcy tried to look apologetic, but why should she? It wasn’t like she got to enjoy a Saturday morning latte.

Natasha poked her head out. “Problems?” Jane shook her head. Darcy nodded. "What is it?”

“I don’t belong here,” Darcy told her.

Natasha looked pointedly at Darcy’s stomach. “Of the four of us, I’d say you’re the only one who truly does belong.”

“But this is fancy!” Darcy protested, gesturing at the window display featuring organic cotton toys. “I’m not and I’m pretty sure that means my baby won’t be, either.”

Natasha stepped out of the store, completely ignoring the two mothers with their matching Burberry diaper bags and Starbucks travel mugs who were trying to pretend they weren’t watching. Jane glared at them until they went inside. “Darcy, where did you think we were going when Pepper arranged this trip?”

Darcy shrugged. Target? Babies R Us? A consignment shop where a pack of onsies would not cost as much as her first car? “It’s intimidating,” she hissed. “And it’s out of my price range.”

Natasha shook her head and took Darcy’s arm. “It’s covered.”

“No. Tony is already redoing my apartment. He’s not buying the baby’s things, too.”

"Not Tony; Steve.”

Pepper was the only person Steve reached out to that he did not inform Darcy of before, during or after their communications, though it was obvious he expected her to protest, given the envelope Pepper handed her before she and Natasha joined Jane at the stroller display.

_Don’t be mad. I’m not insinuating that you can’t take care of our baby. I only want to help – and guarantee that everything you purchase meets standard safety guidelines instead of Tony making something in his workshop. Please, whatever you do, don’t let him build our baby’s crib. Or stroller. Or car seat._

_Don’t let Tony near the baby._

_I love you, Steve._

Darcy rejoined her shopping companions. Jane was still spouting out Consumer Reports facts and unaware of her return. Natasha raised an eyebrow. “We’re good to go,” Darcy told her.

“Excellent,” Pepper smiled.

An hour later, Darcy watched, amazed, as dozens of items were rung up and packaged for delivery to the tower. Pajamas. Onsies. Baby hats. Blankets. Socks. Booties. Blankets. Towels. Bibs. Something called a Boppy pillow. The stroller. A diaper bag.

Jane consulted her list. “You still need a mobile.”

Darcy approached the display. All the items they selected were non-gender specific, as it was too early to know the baby’s sex. Darcy wasn’t sure she wanted to know. On one hand, she was extremely nosy, but on the other hand, it was the world’s greatest surprise – after she finished peeing on the stick. Jane hovered over the space mobile earlier; a rocket ship, planet, stars and the moon. Pepper smiled at the woodland creatures while Natasha remained neutral. Darcy was torn between what she termed the “Under the Sea” motif – seahorses, seashells and fish – and the monkeys, with their silly faces and bright yellow bananas. On impulse, she fished her phone out of her purse and took a picture of each.

_Darcy: Which one looks more like our baby?_

She didn’t know where Steve was or if he’d even get her text. She decided to buy both mobiles and return the one Steve didn’t choose. Her phone dinged on her way to the register.

_Steve: Our baby? Monkeys. No question._

_Steve: Thank you for asking me._

_Darcy: You might not say that when you get the bill._


	8. Chapter 8

“The baby likes Indian food?”

Darcy adjusted her StarkPad to better see Steve as she reclined further into the pile of pillows at the head of the bed. Her back was killing her; no doubt because of the hours she’d spent on her feet that day. Bruce had encouraged her to rest several times, but Darcy brushed his concerns aside. She was there as a representative for Stark Industries. As such, she needed to be seen as a professional. In the privacy of her hotel room, though, she could be as big of a baby as she wanted, pun intended.

“What’s wrong?”

Note to self: be a baby _after_ video chatting with Steve. “What? Nothing’s wrong.”

Steve looked skeptical. “You winced. Why did you wince? Are you hurt? Is it the baby? Should I call Bruce?”

“Whoa!” Darcy exclaimed, holding a hand up as if that had the ability to stop Steve once he got started. “It’s just a little back pain. Or maybe it’s the tandoori chicken. I told you the baby likes Indian food, right? It is so great to eat again! I swear I’ve gained 10 pounds. Remind me to ask Pepper about maternity clothes shopping because I am not going to be one of those women who dresses like a baby just because she’s having one!”

“Don’t change the subject, Darce. Define ‘a little.’”

Darcy glared at her screen. “You’re bossy. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“I prefer the term authoritative. Answer the question.”

“You’re not the boss of me.”

“Darcy …” he said warningly, though there was a hint of a smile on his face. “Don’t make me fly over there. You know I’ll do it.”

He would, too. He was still away when she and Bruce boarded the SI jet for their two-week trek to India to assist an international humanitarian effort in the digging of wells, while showcasing new Stark tech that made the process easier. Clint sitting in one of the leather seats with his booted feet propped on the arm of another, tossing peanuts in his mouth was Steve’s not-so-subtle way of ensuring that what happened in South America did not happen again.

“I’m fine, the baby’s fine, everything’s fine,” she assured Steve. “Back pain is common this stage in the game.”

“That’s what the books say, but …” Steve let out a frustrated breath. His eyes slid off-screen before focusing on her.

She was immediately suspicious. “What? Where are you? You better not be on a plane!”

“Relax,” he smiled. “I’m in my room at the training facility.” He picked up his tablet and slowly moved it around the space to prove it. Darcy had yet to see where he was living after moving out of the tower. Sparse, she decided, was too kind of a word.

“What’s with the boxes in the corner?” she asked. “Are you seriously still unpacking?”

“Yes and no,” Steve told her. “I only unpacked what I needed and never got around to digging out the rest, but now … “ He looked hesitant. “What would you say if I moved back?”

“Back? Back where? To the city or to the tower?”

“Both.”

Darcy dipped her fingers into the bowl of banana chips leaning against her thigh. She crunched on a couple, contemplating Steve’s question. “Why?” she finally asked.

Steve rolled his eyes. “Gee, let’s think about that for a second.”

“Sarcasm noted,” Darcy toasted Steve with a bottle of water. “If you’re worried about the baby, I’ve told Bruce it’s OK to keep you apprised of everything.”

“I know and I appreciate that. It’s probably more than I deserve, but … You’re getting close to 20 weeks, Darce. All the books say things are going to get tougher and I want to be there for you. I want to support you.”

“Steve, you’ve _been_ supportive. Remember the shopping spree?”

“I want to be more than financial support. I can buy everything you or the baby needs. I could send flowers every day and find an Indian restaurant to cater your every meal until you told me to stop, but it’s not the same as being the person who rubs your back when it’s sore or runs out for French silk pie when you have a craving at 2 a.m.“

“I wasn’t pregnant when you did that,” Darcy said softly, remembering the night she made Steve watch _Waitress_ after her disastrous attempt at making him an apple pie.

“It doesn’t matter,” he replied. “I did it then. If you’ll let me, I’ll do it now. I _want_ to be there for you. It’s killing me, sweetheart, knowing you’re doing this on your own. I’m not saying you can’t. God knows there are few women as strong as you, but you don’t have to. I’m here for you, no matter how much or how little you need me." He took a deep breath. "But I won’t move if you don’t want me to. It’s your call.”

Darcy told herself the rapid beating of her heart had nothing to do with Steve calling her sweetheart. “What about training the new recruits?”

“Bucky and Sam can handle things here. I’m not saying I won’t need to come up every now and then and check on things, but they don’t need me here 24/7.”

“What about missions?”

Steve looked wary. “I’ve requested to be off the rotation unless there’s an emergency, at least until after the baby is born.”

“Steve –“

“It’s not forever,” he continued in a rush. “I know this is something we need to figure out together, eventually, but for now, the world is going to have to take care of itself because I want to take care of you.”

Darcy felt the tears welling in her eyes. Goddamn hormones. She sniffled, willing them back. Steve didn’t say anything – a point in his favor. “You better clear it with Tony,” she advised. “He’s on one of his renovation kicks. I think he plans to do something to the cave Clint calls home before we get back.”

“I’ll call him tomorrow.” Steve’s smile was hopeful. Darcy found herself smiling in return. “So …” Steve said, obviously fishing around for an easier topic of conversation. “Indian food.”

“I know!” Darcy latched on to the change like a man with a life preserver. “You’d think the baby would be totally against spicy foods, but apparently not. It’s weird because he or she is not a fan of Mexican, which is wrong on so many levels.”

“What are you eating now?”

Darcy held up the bowl. “Banana chips.”

Steve looked confused. “You hate bananas.”

“I know, but I love these. Pregnancy is strange, Steve.”

His face softened. “You make it look beautiful, Darcy.”

She threw a banana chip at her screen. “I already said you could move to the tower, kiss ass! You don’t have to suck up to me.”

“We’ll see.”

* * *

_Tony: Capsicle wants to move back. Didn’t we vote him off the island?_

Darcy laughed at Tony’s text. _It’s fine. He asked and I said yes._

_Tony: You’re a bigger person than I am, kiddo._

Darcy looked down at her swollen stomach. It was like the baby decided to pop overnight. She looked like she swallowed a soccer ball. She felt like she was carrying a bowling ball – and not one of those lightweight ones she used when she went bowling. And it was only going o get heavier. _Literally_ , she texted with a frowny face emoji.

_Tony: Cheer up, buttercup. I finished your apartment. We’re moving your stuff back today._

_Darcy: Cutting it close there, aren’t you?_

_Tony: You can’t rush perfection._

_Darcy: I don’t suppose you’ll send me pictures?_

_Tony: And ruin the surprise?_

* * *

Darcy leaned back in her seat. A few years of living with Tony Stark had made her almost jaded to some of the luxuries his life afforded, but at this moment she was never more grateful for his company’s private plane, specifically the large leather seats that could easily accommodate an entire row in coach. Wincing as her back seized, she shifted, searching for a comfortable spot, the twinge refusing to go away no matter how much she stretched. The way this kid is going, he/she was never leaving the house. Seriously. Grounded. For. Life.

“Scoot forward.” Clint plopped into the chair next to Darcy. She did, moaning loudly as his hand settled on her lower back, his strong fingers digging into her knotted muscles. Bruce startled at the sound, jerking awake from where he’d been dozing across the aisle. Clint had insisted they go all out their last night in India, Darcy having finished her work obligations in the early afternoon. Darcy only said yes to see Bruce let loose. It was an odd combination – an assassin, a pregnant woman and a physicist – but they managed to have a good time – some, judging by the marks on Clint’s neck, more than others.

“Your back still hurts?” Bruce asked now.

“My back, my stomach, my boobs,” Darcy groaned. “And I’m barely halfway there!”

“At least you managed to keep some food down.” Clint wrapped his arm around Darcy’s chest, keeping her in place as his other hand worked over her protesting muscles. “You were looking kinda gaunt.”

Darcy snorted. That was a word no one would ever use to describe her.

“Are you spotting?” Bruce had pulled out his tablet and was reading over something, the worry lines between his eyes smoothing out when Darcy shook her head. “Good, that means it’s just your body adjusting to the baby. The ligaments that surround and support your uterus are stretching.”

“Ew!” Darcy and Clint said at the same time.

Bruce looked exasperated. “It’s not ‘ew.’ It’s the human body in action.”

Clint snorted. “No offense, Doc, but I saw the human body in action last night and it was not what you just described – oof!” He grunted at Darcy’s elbow in his stomach. “What the hell?”

“New rule: no talking about sex when I’m not getting any.”

Clint rolled his eyes, but kept rubbing Darcy’s back. “You haven’t been getting any for, hmm, about five months. Before that, it was more than a year. Why are you bitching now?”

“Second trimester, also known as the horny stage of pregnancy,” Darcy muttered.

“That’s not the technical term,” Bruce argued.

“Shut it,” she warned. “I saw you with the waitress last night; don’t even try to deny it.”

Bruce busied himself with his tablet. The pinking of his ears made Darcy laugh. Well, the part of her that wasn’t seething with jealousy. Clint was right. She managed to get through her dry spell after she and Steve went their separate ways thanks to a few goodies she received at a friend’s bachelorette party, but that was pre-spawn. The books warned she might feel more amorous once she entered her second trimester and her body started settling into the pregnancy. She had no idea amorous was synonymous with wanting to mount every man within a two-mile radius.

OK, that was an exaggeration. Not every man. Steve. She wanted Steve. She didn’t want the thought of him or the memories of him. She wanted _him_. His body, his hands, his mouth. God, she fucking _ached_ for him!

“That was not a ‘Clint, you give the best backrubs’ moan,” Clint murmured in Darcy’s ear, his hand now rubbing soft circles on her back.

“Sorry.” Darcy shifted in her seat, grateful when Clint simply kissed the top of her had and settled in his own chair. Of course, since it was Clint, he couldn’t leave well enough alone.

“He’s back in the tower.” He glanced at Darcy out of the corner of his eye, a smirk on his lips. “He said he wanted to help.”

Darcy knew Clint let her land the second elbow to his stomach. The way she was going, it was the closest she was going to get to physical contact with a member of the opposite sex for a long time.

* * *

“Ohmigod.”

Darcy stood in the entryway of her apartment. She had an actual entryway with a bench and a closet and – was that a console table? Was she seriously living in a place where she had a console table? With some decorative bowl on top that served no real purpose in life except to look pretty?

“Keep on walking!” Tony shouted from somewhere in the apartment. He wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to triple her square footage. “Plenty more to see!”

Darcy tiptoed over the ivory and brown accent rug with a splash of teal, propping her suitcase against the bench and leaving her purse on the table. The entryway had a half wall that separated it from the rest of the living space. Peering around the corner, Darcy gasped when she saw what Tony did to her one bed, one bath apartment.

“This is …” She covered her mouth with her hand. She always laughed at people on HGTV who cried when they saw their transformed living spaces. Dammit, she _was_ a cliché! “I can’t believe it. Tony, you’re a genius!”

Tony preened under Darcy’s praise. “What you’ve got here, Lewis, is the very definition of an open floor plan. Kitchen, family room, dining. The only doors on this floor are the front door, closet and bathroom.”

“This floor?” Darcy asked, her eyes widening even more when Tony gestured to the staircase against the wall leading up to who knows where.

“Wait a second!” Clint argued. “My place is above Darcy’s!”

“Was,” Tony replied. “Not anymore.”

“Don’t worry,” Pepper swooped in, accustomed to Tony’s languid responses at inopportune times. “Your apartment has been relocated three floors up. I oversaw the renovations myself. It’s a much bigger suite and I made Tony add a balcony.”

Clint looked torn, like he wanted to argue with Tony about his apartment some more, but he also wanted to check out his new place.

“Go,” Darcy told him. “Swoon over your digs, then come check out mine.”

“Deal,” he said before rushing out the door, practically knocking Jane over in the process.

“Darcy!” She ran forward, arms wide open. “You look great! You got some color. You gained some weight! The baby!” Jane laid her hands over Darcy’s stomach. “You really look pregnant!”

“I know!” Darcy laughed. “It’s not a food baby; it’s a real baby!”

“Is she kicking?” Jane prodded Darcy’s belly gently. “Can you feel her? Can I feel her?”

“I feel something,” Darcy admitted, “but no kicking. Not yet.”

Jane looked disappointed for a second, but then her face brightened. “Have you seen the nursery yet? Steve –“

“FOSTER!” Tony bellowed from the top of the stairs. “Zip your trap or I will renovate your lab next!”

Jane glared up at him. “You go within five feet of my lab, Stark, and I’ll zap you to the land without shrimp!”

Tony cocked his head. “ _Buffy_?”

Jane grinned. “Well done.”

Darcy leaned against Pepper. “Its times like these I worry the baby is going to be the most mature person in this building.”

Pepper placed her hand on Darcy’s stomach and rubbed it softly. “Me, too.”

* * *

 

The staircase led to a semi-loft space, with Darcy’s home office located in the open area. The glass wall separating it from the downstairs, Tony explained, will make it possible for her to work while “Anthony” napped in his bedroom or was playing in the family room.

“From there, we move to the hallway,” he said, leading Darcy, Jane and Pepper to the first closed door on his right. He swung the door open with a flourish and gestured for Darcy to enter. “Your master suite, complete with walk-in closet and full bathroom. You have Pepper to thank for the closet design.”

Darcy turned to Pepper, an excited gleam in her eyes. “Is it like yours? Oh God, please say yes!”

Pepper grinned. “Yes.”

Darcy squealed and rushed to the double doors opposite the bathroom. “Anthony Stark, the chances of my child being named after you are getting better and better,” she murmured as she took in the view. Even her ratty sweatshirts looked classy amongst the white wood shelving.

“Hey!” Jane protested.

“If it’s a boy,” Darcy corrected quickly.

“Hey!” Tony shouted.

“How about we see the nursery?” Pepper asked, taking Darcy’s hand. Darcy followed her dumbly, overwhelmed by Tony’s generosity.

Then she saw the nursery.

The walls were painted a soft beige, the wood flooring a dark brown covered by a large tan area rug. The crib was angled in the corner, away from the windows covered with wooden blinds and light forest green curtains that billowed in the breeze. Darcy ran her hand over the dark wood of the crib. It was made with the bedding she picked out – cream blankets and a bumper pad dotted with trees. The mobile was attached, the monkeys looking even cuter in the bedroom than they did at the store. Darcy took in the matching dresser and changing station, the latter stocked with diapers, wipes and onsies, extra blankets folded neatly on the bottom shelf. She opened the dresser drawers to see all the clothing she’d bought washed and folded. The wicker laundry basket in the shape of an elephant was a new addition, as was the rocking chair was angled in the corner next to a bookcase that matched the furniture perfectly, the shelves already half-filled with books. The teddy bear from Steve was propped next to it, its head even with the top shelf.

But none of that compared to the mural. It started with a grand tree in the corner that branched onto the walls and ceilings, three cheerful monkeys playing amongst its leaves. Various jungle animals made up the rest of the painting, from the lion with his thick mane to the giraffe that doubled as a growth chart. Darcy paused in front of the two elephants splashing in a pond, the drops of water so realistic, she almost expected to get wet.

“Steve did this.” It wasn’t a question. She knew it.

“Yeah.” Jane wrapped her arm around Darcy. “He pretty much worked non-stop once Tony gave him the go-ahead.”

“Still don’t know why I said yes,” Tony grumbled. “He wouldn’t let me near the crib, insisting he put everything together himself. Is he an engineer? Is he?”

“It’s beautiful. All of this ...” Darcy turned to Tony. “I will never be able to thank you enough.”

The smirk fell from his face as he took in her serious expression. “No need, Lewis,” he said, backing away slowly, his hands held up as he did so. “I’m not even going to suggest that this secures the godfather title. That would be crass.”

Darcy watched Iron Man’s retreat with amusement. If only the bad guys could see him now. “You do know I’m going to hug you someday, right?”

“Really, no need. Happy to do it. I think I’m going to make some upgrades to Pepper’s and my place next.”

“No.” Pepper shut down the thought with one syllable.

“But Pep,” Tony whined.

“Not even 12 percent,” Pepper said over her shoulder as she walked out of the room, Tony on her heels.

Jane turned to Darcy. “He’s going to want to have a housewarming party.”

Darcy grinned because of course he would. “Nothing’s official until we have a party.”

“Nat mentioned a baby shower.”

Darcy could feel the color draining from her face. She sat in the rocking chair, not even registering how incredibly comfortable it was as her mind tried to wrap around the idea of an Avengers baby shower. “Oh God.”


	9. Chapter 9

Darcy heard the sounds of Steve and Natasha sparring the moment she stepped off the elevator. It was a mix of grunts, flesh striking flesh, and bodies hitting the hard surface of the floor. She followed the noise, bypassing the weight room, locker rooms, swimming pool and sauna, and pushed open the doors to the wide open space that served as the official site of Avengers kicking each other’s asses. Judging by the move Natasha executed to flip Steve over her shoulder and on to his back, she was winning. Darcy leaned against the wall, content to watch the action as the fight continued, though she was under no illusions that the two people focused on each other weren't aware of her presence. 

Her suspicions were confirmed when Steve tapped out a few minutes later. Natasha shot him a look of disgust – she liked to win, but only when her victory was earned – before walking to Darcy with a warm smile. She hugged the redhead while Steve busied himself guzzling what looked like a gallon of water. His face was still red with exertion when Natasha not-so-gently pushed Darcy forward, after promising to make arrangements for a family dinner.

“You’re back,” Steve pulled a towel from his battered gym bag to wipe the sweat off his face and arms.

“Yeah,” Darcy replied, forcing herself to keep her eyes locked on Steve’s and not follow the bead of perspiration slowly trailing down his neck to his chest. He was wearing one of his too-tight shirts, which left little to the imagination. “We got in a couple of hours ago.” He nodded and looped the towel around his neck. To the casual observer, he looked relaxed, but Darcy noticed how stiff he held himself, his fingers gripping the end of the towel. He was nervous. Knowing that made her feel better. Yes, they've communicated in some form every day for almost a month, but this was their first up-close-and-personal conversation since Darcy told Steve about the baby. "The mural is gorgeous, Steve. Thank you.”

His shoulders relaxed in response to her praise. “I would've asked, but Tony wanted your place to be a surprise and you know how he is when he doesn’t get his way. I can always paint over it.”

“Try it and I will cut you.”

“Physical violence?” he teased. “You must really like it.”

“That’s how I roll,” she replied, her hand rubbing circles over her protruding stomach. She saw Steve’s eyes glance briefly at the movement and impulsively grabbed his hand, resting it on her

abdomen. They were silent as his large fingers slowly traced over the cotton T-shirt stretched tight across her bump, almost as if he could trace their baby's profile. Darcy had to force herself to stay still and not sway into his touch.

“Can you feel him? Her?” he whispered, as if afraid anything louder would break the spell.

“Sometimes.”

Steve’s head dropped down, damp bangs flopping over eyebrows narrowed in concentration as his hand rested against her stomach. “What’s it like?”

“Kind of weird,” she admitted. “I wasn't even sure that that's what I was feeling at first, so I …” Darcy trailed off, not sure she wanted to finish the story.

Steve looked up. “What?”

She could feel her cheeks getting warm. “I thought maybe it was gas," she confessed. "You know, from all the travel, the heat, walking around, the different foods and everything, so I asked Bruce if I could have an antacid. He had me describe what was going on, which was so embarrassing but considering what’s going to happen when this kid decides to vacate the womb, I should probably get over it, right? Anyway,” she said, not waiting for an answer, “he told me it was quickening - the baby moving - which I know because I’m reading the books, dammit, but the fact that he figured it out before I did kind of freaked me out. And then I started thinking of all the ways I’m going to screw this up because I didn’t even realize my baby was trying to say hello! What kind of mother doesn’t know that?!? So I’m sitting there, feeling like the worst person ever and imagining all the ways this kid is going to hate me, and that's when I started crying because that's my reaction to everything these days. That freaked Bruce out, so he started doing those deep breathing exercises he does when Tony is being Tony. I’m still bawling and he's trying to get me to calm down while he's trying to calm down, and there's snot everywhere because I'm not a pretty crier, and suddenly the door to Bruce's hotel room is kicked open and Clint comes running in with his bow all ready to shoot, which makes Bruce panic more, so now I'm comforting him and Clint is asking where the bad guys went and a maid in standing in the hallway watching all of us like we're crazy!" Darcy took a deep breath, her rambling rants getting more difficult to finish in one breath, but the look on Steve's face stopped her from continuing the story. It was indulgent, bordering on dopey. She remembered the first time she caught Steve looking at her like that – and what happened after. "Anyway," she said, suddenly desperate for the company of others, "he or she is in there, cooking away. All is well." 

His expression didn't change. If anything, it got softer. "I've missed you, Darcy."

Oh God. Oh God. She'd missed him, too. So much. Even when he left, when she knew she had every right to hate him, she wanted him. Physically. Emotionally. He was her best friend. She'd find herself texting him about something stupid Clint did and had to stop because he wasn't her person anymore. She felt a flutter in her stomach. Great. Even the baby was taking Steve's side. No. She wasn't going to rush this. She couldn't. Not now, not like this. She was too emotional, too jet-lagged, too hungry. She was still riding the high of her new living space. "Steve ..." She took a step back, letting his hand fall from her stomach. "I ..." She tried to find the words, to say what she was feeling without promising too much or too little. Instead, she shrugged her shoulders, hoping he'd get it.

"Right," he nodded, resigned. He slung his gym bag over his shoulder and gestured for her to walk with him out of the gym. He held the door open for her, his hand hovering over the small of her back for just a second as she brushed past him. They were quiet as they walked down the hallway to the elevator, a careful distance between them. The silence stretched as the car traveled to Steve's apartment, located one floor below Darcy.

"Jarvis, hold the elevator."

"Yes, Captain."

He turned towards her. "I meant what I said, Darcy; you're everything to me. I know you don't believe it, or maybe you're scared to believe it, and I understand. I hurt you. I was stupid and stubborn and scared and I should’ve talked to you instead of leaving the way I did. I know it doesn’t make sense, but I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I could go, eradicate the threat and keep you safe. I don't know if I can ever make up for that, but I'm gonna keep trying. Even if we weren't having a baby, Darce, I'd fight for you.” 

Darcy watched him go, her head and her heart trying to make sense of the bombshell he just dropped. "Bucky always said you were too stupid to know when to walk away from a fight," she called. 

He turned around, but kept walking backwards. "I think in this instance, he'd take my side."

* * *

Dinner that night was lively, as all Avenger dinners tended to be. There was pizza. Chinese. Indian. Hamburgers. Darcy started with the biryani, branching out to a small slice of cheese pizza before snatching a French fry from Jane’s plate. She pretended not to notice everyone pretending not to watch her, the path to the bathroom clear of all objects just in case she had to make a fast exit.

“I think I’m over it,” Darcy said a few minutes after she risked a second fry. “No more morning sickness.”

“Don’t say that,” Clint warned. “You know the killer always comes back the second someone says everything’s going to be OK.”

“I don’t think that applies to this situation,” Natasha told him. 

Clint shook his head. “I saw things, Tasha.” He caught the piece of pizza crust Darcy beamed at his head without looking. “I know true horror.”

Steve was quiet as the conversation flowed around him, his plate almost empty despite the vast amount of food he piled on it moments before. Darcy wondered if this was his first time eating with everyone since moving back to the tower. She’d ask Jane, but it’s possible she wouldn’t even have known he was back had she not been in on the nursery preparation process. Not her problem, she reminded herself as placed her plate on the floor and snuggled further into the couch, stretching her legs until her feet rested in Jane’s lap. Her friend patted her ankles absentmindedly, her focus on Wheel of Fortune, which was muted on the television. Every minute or so, she or Tony would yell out a random word or phrase. Darcy closed her eyes, letting the familiarity of the moment wash over her as she slowly fell asleep. She didn’t know how long she was out when she felt Steve’s arms slide under her legs and shoulders. She knew she should open her eyes, insist that she could make her way back to her place, but she was so tired and he was so Steve and all of this felt so right. 

She wouldn’t remember the ride in the elevator or Steve asking Jarvis to open the door to her apartment. She’d wake up the next morning in her bed, unable to recall how Steve carried her up the stairs to her bedroom, somehow managing to pull the covers back on her bed while she nuzzled against his shoulder. She wouldn’t know he ached to place his hand over her stomach but settled for whispering “Good night, baby; Daddy loves you.”

* * *

 

Darcy sat on the hospital bed, her socked feet swinging back and forth as she ignored the pressure on her bladder. “I don’t get why I had to drink a shit ton of water,” she grumbled.

“Sound waves travel better through liquid,” Steve responded immediately.

“Thank you, Dr. Rogers,” she snapped. She was being unusually bitchy. She knew that, but she’s had to pee for the last 30 minutes and some stupid lab assistant caused a minor fire in Bruce’s lab, delaying the ultrasound. Steve’s presence didn’t help. She was glad he was there, glad they’d experience this together, but he looked so good in dark blue jeans and a light blue cotton button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows that she was having a hard time remembering why jumping him was a bad idea.

Fucking hormones.

“Sorry.” Bruce walked into the room, sans lab coat, tablet in hand. He gestured for Darcy to lie down, ducking his head to hide his grin when Steve helped her get settled. “Darcy, I’m going to need you to relax,” he said, unbuttoning the bottom buttons of her oversized flannel shirt until her abdomen was exposed. She took the liberty of rolling down the top of her yoga pants earlier, knowing Bruce would have stumbled over that request and the last thing her poor bladder could handle was a laughing fit. “This is going to be cold,” he cautioned before squirting a liberal amount of blue goo on her stomach.

Darcy sucked in her breath. Jesus Christ! Who the hell decided it was a good thing to make a pregnant woman drink 64 ounces of water and then cover her stomach in some freezing gel before pressing on it? She’d bet everything she owned that it was a man. Bastard.

“Alright,” Bruce said as he moved the transducer over her belly. “Give it a moment.” Darcy held her breath, letting it out when a loud woosh-woosh-woosh echoed throughout the room. “Baby’s heartbeat sounds good,” Bruce remarked, his eyes on clock as he counted the number of beats per minute.

“It sounds perfect,” Steve murmured from his spot near the head of the bed. She reached a hand up, squeezing tight when he took it, linking his fingers through hers.

“Ready for the show?” Bruce smiled as he turned the monitor so Darcy and Steve could see the screen, too.

Steve moved closer, leaning down so his head was practically pressed against Darcy's as they watched the image on the screen look like … well, nothing really. Bruce was talking, making notes on the tablet, but Darcy had no idea how he could tell one little dark spot from the other. “Is that the head?” she guessed.

“That’s the head,” he confirmed, pausing the image on the screen so he could trace the baby’s outline with his finger, the smudges and lines suddenly looking like one of the images in her pregnancy books. “Say hello to your baby.”


	10. Chapter 10

Darcy wasn’t having a good day. She overslept, almost missing her interview with a finalist for the International Stark Industries Engineering Scholarship. The interview was via Skype, which meant she had to make an effort to look presentable. To do this, she had to skip breakfast, telling herself – and her baby – that she’d have Morgan pick up a bagel on her way to the office, but as she was rushing out of her apartment, her assistant called to say she wouldn’t be in because her dog ate a snack-size package of Oreo cookies and she needed to take him to the vet.

“I’m probably overreacting, but he’s my baby!” Morgan cried, her voice getting higher the longer she talked.

“Go,” Darcy commanded. “I’ve got this.”

And she did. Barely. If she spent the first few minutes of the phone call daydreaming about Oreos, well, she comforted herself with the knowledge that the foundation’s board of directors already decided that the student was going to get the scholarship. She was the best candidate by far. The interview was strictly formality.

Her stomach was beyond growling by the time the conversation ended. The sounds coming out of it were on par with that one scene from _Alien_. Darcy grabbed her purse, intending to stop by the third floor coffee shop and scrounge whatever pastries she could from the remains of the breakfast rush, but then Pepper’s assistant stopped by to tell her Pepper was called to Malibu on an urgent matter and ask if she could sit in on Tony’s interview with _Vanity Fair_.

“Sure,” Darcy said, pulling her wallet from her purse. “When is it?”

“In ten minutes. I e-mailed you …”

Darcy sighed. She had yet to check her e-mail. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s been a hectic morning. Let’s go.”

Tony was coming off a two-day science bender, so he was unusually composed during the interview, answering the reporter’s questions without going off on non-Pepper approved tangents. Darcy wondered if her boss and mentor threatened to withhold sex, but she was sticking to her new rule: no one could talk about sex in front of Darcy. Instead, she thanked the reporter for the interview and invited him to contact her if he had any follow-up questions, sagging against the conference table after Pepper’s assistant led him away.

“You look like hell.”

Darcy pulled the elastic from her ponytail, the headache that started throbbing midway through the hour-long conversation easing slightly once her hair was loose. “Overslept. Haven’t had breakfast.”

“You’re pregnant!”

“I know that!” Darcy snapped. “I was going to have Morgan pick up something for me, but she couldn’t come in today. I had the phone call with the London student, then this …” Her voice trailed off as Tony’s concerned face wavered in front of her. Was she going to throw up? No. She hadn’t thrown up in weeks. This was new. This was …

* * *

 

“Easy,” Tony’s voice was soothing. Darcy opened her eyes. She was lying on the floor in the conference room. No, she was semi-reclining against Tony, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor in the conference room with her in his arms. “Here,” he said, lifting a bottle of apple juice to her lips. “Drink slowly.”

She did. Had apple juice always tasted that amazing? “What happened?”

“You did your impression of a Victorian lady whose corset was too tight. I’d give it an 8. You were a bit shaky on the landing.”

“Huh?”

“You fainted,” Bruce said as he walked into the conference room, Steve on his heels. “Most likely from stress and hunger.” He set his battered black medical bag on the floor. “Did you sleep well last night?”

No. No, she didn’t. Her mind was too busy fucking with her, which was ironic because fucking was what she wanted to do. Every time she closed her eyes, she was overcome by images of Steve, and of her and Steve. Sweet memories. Dirty memories. Memories that would severely tarnish his Golden Boy reputation if it ever got out what he was like in bed. Ignoring it didn’t work. Taking care of business herself didn’t work. She wondered if there was a gigolo service for single pregnant women. Surely she couldn’t be the only woman in this situation.

“Darcy?” Bruce repeated as Tony helped her sit up. Bruce wrapped a blood pressure cuff around her bicep. “Sleeping?”

Darcy shook her head.

“What’s wrong?” Steve dropped to his hunches in front of her. “Are you hurting? Is it your back? Do you need a new bed? Were you hungry? You know you can call me anytime, even in the middle of the night. I’ll get you whatever you want.”

“Does that offer extend to everyone or just those carrying your spawn?” Tony asked.

Steve barely spared him a glare.

“Blood pressure’s normal,” Bruce announced. “I’m going to listen to your heart. Just breathe like you normally would. Everyone else: be quiet.”

Tony rolled his eyes, but mimed zipping his mouth shut, tapping something on his phone. Steve looked like he wanted to ask a question, but he, too, remained silent as Bruce took Darcy’s vitals. The second Bruce pronounced things normal, he handed Darcy a white paper bag. She peeked inside, her face lighting up at the sweet deliciousness inside. “Bavarian cream?”

Steve nodded, passing her a small carton of milk. “Jarvis mentioned you were having a morning. I thought a treat might cheer you up. He didn’t tell me you were starving. I would’ve been here faster if he had.”

“I apologize, Captain Rogers.” Jarvis said stiffly.

Darcy winced. That was her fault. Steve asked if Jarvis could monitor Darcy’s pregnancy and report any concerns to him, but she shot that down, worried that the know-all, see-all AI might see it prudent to report her licentious thoughts. “Sorry,” she muttered around a mouthful of pastry.

“Jarvis, from now on, if you see Lewis about to faint from lack of food or if her vitals are abnormal, you tell Rogers and Bruce,” Tony demanded.

“Hey!” Darcy protested.

“No,” Tony told her. “You scared me, Lewis. I didn’t like it. You won’t do it again.” He walked out of the conference room before Darcy could apologize. Or yell. Maybe both. She took another bite of her donut, catching the thick cream on her finger before it fell to the ground.

“He’ll calm down,” Bruce said. “But it wouldn’t hurt to let Jarvis keep us posted. Just in case.”

“I’m not a baby,” Darcy grumbled, licking the cream off her finger.

“No, but you are carrying one,” Bruce replied as he got to his feet. “This is probably a one-time thing, but it could happen again. What if it did and you were alone?”

Darcy reached up to grab the edge of the conference table to pull herself up, but Steve’s hands were under her arms before her fingers even brushed the surface, helping her to her feet with more grace than she could manage alone. He stepped back almost immediately, but she could feel him ready to sweep in and catch her if necessary.

“Only in an emergency, J. If I find out you’ve been blabbing how often I go to the bathroom …”

“I understand, Miss Lewis.”

Bruce looked pleased. “Great, that’s settled. Steve will walk you back to your apartment and make sure you have something substantial for lunch. You’re still underweight from the prolonged morning sickness. I’ll be in touch with Morgan to get a follow-up scheduled in the next day or so and –“

“No,” Darcy interrupted. “Steve can walk me back to my office. It’s barely after one.”

“Yes, and all you’ve had to eat today is a donut and milk,” Steve replied. “You need lunch and you need to rest.”

“Tony gave me apple juice,” Darcy shot back. “And I’ll have something delivered. I have contracts to look through and with Pepper gone –“

Bruce shook his head. “Sorry, Darce, but Tony contacted Pepper and she agreed that you should take the rest of the day off.”

Damn Tony and his phone. Darcy didn’t even bother to argue. When Pepper spoke, the world listened. “I want fried chicken and mashed potatoes with white gravy,” she told Steve. “No green beans.”

Bruce cleared his throat.

“Six green beans,” Darcy amended.

Steve pulled out his phone. “I’m on it.”

* * *

 

She ate 10 green beans. She made Steve text that to Bruce, then demanded that Jarvis make note of it, too. She also devoured an ear of corn, one-and-a-half biscuits, one breast, a drumstick and a large dollop of potatoes covered in thick gravy, washing everything down with a tall glass of milk.

“There we go,” she murmured to her stomach. She was slouched on the couch, her feet propped on the coffee table, her now-empty plate balanced on her belly. “Everyone’s happy now.”

Steve rolled to his feet, piling Darcy’s dishes on top of his. She listened as he cleaned up her kitchen, knowing helping would be the polite thing to do, but she was too full and too tired. She rubbed her hand over her stomach in soothing circles. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt this relaxed. The only thing that would make it better would be a foot rub. No, a back rub. No, an orgasm. No, wait, an orgasm and then a foot rub.

“What?”

Darcy looked over her shoulder. She did not say that out loud. God was not that cruel. “Huh?”

Steve walked over, perching on the arm of the couch, his gaze intent. “Do you want me to rub your back, Darce? Or maybe your feet?”

Oh. That’s what he heard. That was good. Perfect, really. She wouldn’t mind either one. Bonus: Steve’s hands would be on her. Maybe that would be enough to make her lady parts calm the fuck down.

“Or,” Steve continued, his voice dropping several octaves as he brought his thumb to her mouth, slowly rubbing it over her plump bottom lip, “do you want me to take you upstairs and bury my face between your legs until you pass out from screaming? I’ll be sure to tell Jarvis he won’t have to alert Bruce.”

Darcy’s mouth fell open. “What?”

Steve’s smile was wicked. “I’m reading the same books you are,” he reminded her. “I know what your body is doing to you.” His hand curved around the side of her face, his fingers carding through her dark hair. “I know what I’d like to do to you.” She shivered at his touch, his words turning her common sense to mush. She allowed him to tilt her head up, her lips parting slightly as he bent low, his own lips a hair’s breadth away. “Let me take care of you, sweetheart,” he whispered.

This was a bad idea. A really stupid, really bad idea. But then his lips were on hers and Darcy didn’t care. God, she missed kissing Steve. She had no idea what Natasha was talking about when she described their kiss at the mall as awkward. She always found Steve to be an excellent kisser, soft and seductive one minute, hard and demanding the next. She loved both sides of him and every bit in-between.

“Wait!” Darcy pulled away from Steve, gasping as she struggled to catch her breath, grateful to see he was panting, too.

“What is it?”

Darcy pulled her top over her head. “The bedroom’s all the way upstairs,” she told him, her hands going behind her back to unhook her bra. Steve’s eyes widened at pregnancy’s effect on her already impressive rack.

“Plan B,” he agreed, pushing the coffee table back so her could settle on his knees in front of her, his hands pushing the fabric of her skirt to her waist. He rested his palm on her abdomen for a brief second before hooking his thumbs in the waistband of her already damp panties, tugging them down her legs. He propped her feet over his shoulder, breathing in her scent before his locked his eyes on hers. “Just tell me when you’ve had enough,” he said before pressing his tongue against her.


	11. Chapter 11

Darcy wasn’t sure she’d ever “have enough” of Steve. He wasn’t someone you forgot or got over. She tried. She really did. She threw herself into her work. She distracted herself with her friends. She contemplated dating, but the thought of kissing someone who wasn’t Steve was beyond distasteful, so she badgered Clint into giving her archery lessons. It helped, having something that demanded so much of her focus.

Then South America happened, throwing Steve back in her life. It was an anomaly, another one of life’s wrong place, wrong time moments. Unfortunately, she seemed to have a knack for getting into them but if one insisted on looking on the bright side of things, would she even be here if she didn’t?

“Be where?” Steve asked. They were lying in her bed, naked. Darcy was on her back, one arm resting over her head, the other draped over Steve’s shoulder, her fingers lazily threading through his hair. He was pressed close to her, his head barely resting just over her stomach, as if he was afraid he’d hurt her or the baby, but not wanting to move away.

“What?” Darcy asked, pleasantly exhausted from their marathon sexing session. He brought her to orgasm with his mouth three times before she used her feet to push him to his back on the floor, pulling his clothes from his body with a speed that put other superheroes to shame, sinking on him with a moan that made her grateful for the tower’s soundproofing. She rode him hard and fast, self-satisfaction her only goal, collapsing in a heap when it came, her chest heaving from the combination of effort and aftershocks. He ran his hands over her back in slow, soothing strokes, still hard inside her, but making no effort to take his own pleasure. It wasn’t until she raised her head and gave him a challenging look that he rolled them to their sides, still connected, his hips moving in deliberate, measured strokes until she was on the edge once more.

He turned his head, his forehead and cheeks still flushed from their last round. Darcy felt a perverse burst of pride. Steve’s stamina was insane. He was the freaking Energizer Battery Bunny of incredible sex and yet he was the one who looked like he could use a nap. “You said something about being somewhere?”

“Oh.” Darcy ran her finger down Steve’s nose, tapping it lightly before raising her arms over her head in a long, luxurious stretch. God, she felt amazing! This was, hands down, the best idea she ever had. “It was nothing; just talking to myself.”

Steve scooted to the head of the bed, resting his head on a pillow. “That’s new,” he commented.

Darcy rolled to her side so she could look at him. “Yeah, well …” She started after he left. The apartment was so quiet without him. She tried leaving the television on, but when that failed to mask the silence; she said her thoughts out loud, pretending he was there to listen. At first she yelled at him. A lot. She cursed him for leaving her, for ruining what they had, for not loving her enough or trusting her enough to share his fears with her, for not believing she was strong enough to handle whatever life threw at them. She shouted until her voice was hoarse, her body exhausted, her anger not quite abated, but not as desperate. She kept it up because she was lonely.

“Pregnancy symptom?” She could tell he was joking, trying to lighten the mood.

“I’m a talker,” she quipped. “Baby better get used to it.”

Steve’s hand settled on her abdomen. Darcy noticed he couldn’t stop touching her stomach, his hands cupping her bulk or fingers tracing undecipherable shapes over her skin. She felt a prick of guilt. She’d been avoiding him because she didn’t want what happened to happen, but in doing so, she deprived him of experiencing the pregnancy with her. He wanted to be involved. He was doing everything he could to be involved without overstepping her boundaries. Darcy closed her eyes. She hated feeling guilty! She’d rather focus on sexual gratification. Still, that didn’t stop her from placing her hand over Steve’s.

“It still doesn’t seem real,” he remarked after a couple of minutes.

She knew what he meant. There were times she’d wake up in the morning and forget she was pregnant – until her protesting bladder reminded her. “We haven’t even got to the fun part,” she reminded him. She was closing in on 23 weeks. The books said she’d feel the baby kick any day now. She was excited and terrified.

Steve’s smile promised trouble. “I don’t know about that,” he rolled out of bed, his arms sliding underneath Darcy to lift her into his arms. He carried her to the master bath as if she weighed nothing, setting her gently on the counter before turning to the bathtub that was on par with a hot tub size-wise.

“Feeling dirty?”

He winked over his shoulder. “Always.”

* * *

 

The water was warm, the bubbles fragrant. Steve had dimmed the lights so the room was cast in a soft glow. She leaned against him, her back to his front, boneless from his extremely thorough back rub that ended with his fingers between her legs, his lips soft against her neck as he coaxed another orgasm out of her.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she murmured drowsily.

Steve’s paused in running a sponge over her legs. “You are?”

“Mm-hmm.”

He shifted his focus to her thighs. “For the sex?” he quipped, though Darcy wasn’t so out of it that she didn’t hear the note of worry in his voice.

“Duh.” She struggled to keep a straight face, but a snicker escaped her pressed lips seconds later. “And for everything else,” she admitted. “I know I said I can do this on my own, and I can, but it’s kinda nice not to have to.”

He gently ran the sponge over the curve of her stomach. “You weren’t alone, Darcy. Even before I got here, you had the team looking out for you.”

She tilted her head up to look at him. “How many death threats did you get?”

“Enough.”

“Which one scared you the most?”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “The one that hasn’t happened yet.”

Thor. She wished there was a way they could contact Asgard. She wondered if Heimdall already gave him a heads up. Did letting Thor know his so-called lightening sister was knocked up fall under his “I see everything” repertoire?

She turned around, ignoring the water that splashed over the bathtub’s edge, settling on Steve’s lap with her legs bracketing his waist. She pushed his damp hair off his forehead. “I’ll protect you,” she promised just before she kissed him. She meant to keep it light, but then he made that sound deep in his throat that made her insides melt and she was hit with the urge to take him inside her again.

“Darcy …” Steve’s protest was weak as she rose above him, one hand sliding between their bodies to touch him, his cock growing hard in her grasp. “Sweetheart, you’re going to be sore.”

“Don’t care,” she said, running the tip of him over her damp folds. God, she could come just like this.

“At least let me …” he slid his hands under her knees, protecting her from the hard porcelain. She leaned forward, taking his lips, her tongue sliding inside his mouth just as he slid into her. She kissed him the way she fucked him, slow and deep, sighing into his mouth as she came, swallowing his moan of release seconds later.

* * *

 

They were in her kitchen, Steve stirring the scrambled eggs as she buttered toast, when her phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Hey cupcake,” Sam sounded like he was trying to be casual. “Have you seen Steve?”

Darcy locked eyes with the man in question. “Yeah …”

She couldn’t decipher his responding exhale of breath. Frustration? Relief? “Let me talk to him, please.”

Darcy handed Steve the phone. He gave her the spatula and walked into the living room. “Yeah?”

She pretended to focus on the food, but it was difficult to fake indifference when the person you were trying to ignore only 10 feet away. If he wanted privacy, he should have gone upstairs.

“I know,” Steve told Sam. “I was on my way and Darcy – she needed me.” He paused. “I know,” he repeated. “I was gonna call. I will call. I’ll do it right after I talk to you.”

He was quiet as Sam spoke. His back was to Darcy, but she could tell by the way he held himself that he was feeling defensive. “I am serious about this! I’ve gone almost every day for two weeks!” He ran his hand though his hair. “Sam, Darcy fainted. I’m not going to sit on my ass and talk about what I’m feeling when she needs me!”

She watched as his shoulders lost some of their stiffness. “Yeah, she’s fine. Bruce checked her over. No, tell Bucky he doesn’t need to come; I’ve got this.” He gave a self-depreciating chuckle. “Tell him I said to fuck off.”

Darcy snorted, ducking her head to focus on the eggs when Steve turned around. “Sam? I gotta go.” He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I’ll tell her. Bye.” He tossed her phone onto the couch with a sigh.

“Don’t you have a call to make?” Darcy asked

Steve looked around her living room. “Yeah ... I just need to find my phone.”

Darcy laughed as she dished up their dinner, sliding Steve’s plate into the oven with the heat on low to keep it warm while she sat at the table. Again, she tried not to listen to his conversation, but he stayed seated on the couch after locating his phone under the cushions.

“Kurt? Yeah, it’s me. Sorry about this afternoon.” He nodded as the person – Kurt – said something. “My girl – Darcy – she had a complication with the pregnancy. I got word as I was leaving.” He looked relieved, his face relaxing. “I know. I will.” He paused. “Tomorrow at 1. I’ll be there. Thanks.”

He hung up, setting his phone on the coffee table before walking to the kitchen to take his plate out of the oven. He flipped the knob to off, took the glass of milk Darcy poured for him out of the refrigerator and joined her at the table. She let him swallow his first bite before the urge to know what was going on overtook her. “Who’s Kurt?”

Steve wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Friend of Sam’s. He works at the VA.”

Darcy arched an eyebrow. “And?”

“And I’ve been spending some time with him, talking about stuff.”

Darcy watched Steve devour a slice of toast. “Like a counselor?”

He nodded.

“Couldn’t you talk to Sam?”

Steve shook his head. “Not like this. Sam’s … he’s great, but he’s my friend. He’s too close. I need someone with distance, without bias. Kurt … he’s done three tours, seen good men and women die. He’s married, has two kids, and knows how hard it is to navigate the real world when things are so fucked up.” He pushed away his plate. “It happened so fast, Darce. One minute I’m fighting in the war, losing Bucky, crashing my plane, and then I wake up and everything’s different. I was alone. I was lost and angry and SHIELD talked about therapy, but I didn’t want to talk to anyone. Not then. Then Loki happened and the team. Hydra. SHIELD. Meeting you. Getting Bucky back. Losing you.” He pushed away from the table. “I buried everything I felt -- sorrow, fear, loneliness -- and I fought. That’s what I knew, what I understood. I needed something to hit, something to punish, something to make up for everything I lost and then you tell me there’s a baby on the way and I … I want to be different. I want to be better.”

“Most people think Captain America is as close to perfect as you get.”

Steve shook his head stubbornly. “That’s not who I am. That’s what I do. I let … I got lost in the image. I let it bury me. Or maybe I hid behind it. Either way, I can’t live like that anymore. I won’t. Our baby deserves better. You deserve better.” He rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. “Kurt’s trying to make me believe I deserve better, too.”

Darcy got up, wrapping her arms around Steve, getting as close as her protruding belly would allow. “I’m proud of you,” she murmured into the soft fabric of his shirt.

He kissed the top of her head. “Thanks. I know this doesn’t fix everything, but I’m trying Darcy.”

Darcy pulled back, her gaze serious as she looked at Steve. “You can’t do this for me,” she told him. “You have to do it for yourself.”

He nodded. “I know. Kurt said the same thing.”

“Sounds like a smart guy.”

“Yeah, well, he’s Army,” Steve said with an air of arrogance.

“I’m telling Sam and Rhodey you said that,” Darcy threatened.

“Go right ahead; it’s not like Buck and I haven’t said worse to their faces.”

Darcy shook her head. “Stupid soldiers.”

“You know you love us.”

“I’m kind of stupid, too.”


	12. Chapter 12

Darcy wasn’t surprised to find her refrigerator and pantry fully stocked after her fainting incident, but somehow a mini refrigerator disguised as a wooden file cabinet the same design as her desk and bookshelves appeared in her office. A flowering African violet sat on top of it, next to the framed sonogram photo. She was contemplating that when Morgan walked in, wanting to know why she had a new file cabinet, too.

“And it’s filled with food,” she said, a confused expression on her face.

Darcy turned away from the mini-fridge --it was so much cooler (pun intended) than the one she had in her dorm at Culver -- and followed Morgan. Sure enough, a fourth file cabinet was added to the three lined against the wall. Tony hated those file cabinets. He didn’t trust people who still used paper and refused to listen when Darcy explained that many of the groups and organizations SI helped didn’t have access to technology, which is why SI helped them, so to now have another one …

Darcy pulled open the top drawer. It was filled with granola bars of every size, texture and flavor. The second drawer had grab-and-go breakfast items, as well as packets of instant oatmeal and miniature boxes of cereal. The bottom drawer was crammed with bags of pretzels, packages of microwave popcorn, packages of beef jerky, and bags of dried fruit.

“What did I miss yesterday?” Morgan asked.

Darcy shook her head. Why was she even surprised? Subtlety was never Tony’s thing. “I need to swing by the labs. Hold my calls? If you get thirsty, there’s milk in the file cabinet in my office.”

“What?”

Out of habit, Darcy swung by Jane’s lab first. Although Jane finally had an assistant who understood her work and the importance of maintaining a semi-regular eating and sleeping schedule, the bonds established after numerous brushes with death and many late-night drunken conversations gave Darcy the right to butt in whatever she wanted.

“Hey Jane,” Darcy called.

“You!” Jane appeared out of nowhere, her hands fisted on her hips. “What’s this I hear about you fainting from starvation?”

Darcy snorted in disbelief. “Really? How many times have I had to physically force food down your throat?”

“I’m not pregnant.”

“You know, I’m really getting tired of people using that as an excuse to tell me what to do.”

Jane pulled a package of Pop-Tarts out of her lab coat and thrust it in Darcy’s hands. “Eat that.”

Darcy’s stomach roiled at the thought. She’d devoured a Steve-size breakfast less than an hour ago. “Jane –“

“I’m serious!”

She not only looked serious, but a little scary, too. Darcy opened the package and dutifully took a bite of one of the Pop-Tarts. “Mmm,” she murmured, ducking her head so Jane wouldn’t see her smirk.

“That’s better.” Jane nodded. “We’re going to have lunch today. I’ll meet you at the food court at noon.”

“The last time you said you’d meet me at the food court, you never showed up and I got cornered by Johnny Storm. All I asked is if he could toast my sub and he got this leer on his face!” Darcy shuddered at the memory.

“Ramona will remind me, right Ramona?” Jane called to her assistant. A tall blond poked her head around some monstrosity Jane called science and nodded. “See?”

“Alright …” Darcy made a mental note to bring her Taser to lunch. She was not going to get cornered by the Human Torch again.

Tony’s workshop was two floors below Jane’s. Darcy took the stairs, having read that regular exercise made labor and delivery easier. She was all for that. As it was, Bruce wasn’t sure an epidural would work for her, given Steve’s metabolism’s ability to render most pain medications useless, something he wasn’t sure the baby could do, too. If she was going to have to go au natural, she was going to do everything she could to make the experience as pain-free as possible.

She passed Bruce in the hall. He snagged the Pop-Tarts out of her hands and replaced it with a bag of trail mix without missing a beat. “Hey!” Darcy shouted at his back. She didn’t want them, but it was the principle of the thing.

He didn’t stop walking.

“I ate 10 green beans yesterday!”

He waved a hand over his shoulder and pushed open the door to the stairs. Sometimes Darcy missed shy and awkward Bruce. Tony was a terrible influence on him. Speaking of …

Rock music was blaring when the glass doors that sealed Tony’s workspace from the rest of the tower opened. The fact that they did was a good sign. If Tony was really mad, he’d forbid Jarvis from letting her enter. Instead, the AI lowered the volume of the music to a tolerable level.

“Jarvis!” Tony snapped up from whatever he was working on. “What have I – oh.”

Darcy waved. “Hey.”

Tony turned back to what looked like an electrical grid of some sort. “Go away if you want me to sign something. I took your cards, remember?”

Darcy crossed the room. She was unable to hop on top of the table like she used to, so she settled for leaning against it. She opened her bag of trail mix and picked out the raisins. Yuck. “I just wanted to say –“

“Don’t thank me,” he interrupted.

The urge to throw the bag of trail mix was so strong that she dropped it on the table. God, he was such a pain in the ass sometimes. “You are such a pain in the ass sometimes!”

Tony’s head snapped up. “That’s what you call gratitude?”

She threw her arms in the air. “What gratitude? You won’t let me thank you!”

“Exactly!”

“Why?”

“’Cause we’re friends!” Tony shouted.

“Friends say thank you!” Darcy yelled.

“Mine don’t!”

That made Darcy pause. In many ways, living in the tower was like living in a bubble. Very few outsiders were allowed into the Avengers’ inner circle. Darcy and Sam had dozens of friends and acquaintances outside of the team, but they were the exception. The list of people Clint and Natasha trusted could fit on a Post-It. Steve had a difficult time getting others to see him as anything besides Captain America. Bucky may have been social in his youth, but decades of abuse at the hands of Hydra left its mark and he now preferred the company of a select few. Thor was from another realm, the fact that Bruce willingly spent time with other members of the team was still new enough to seem miraculous and Tony … He seemed to know everyone, but how many people truly knew him?

Before the Avengers, Tony‘s life consisted of work, alcohol, parties and one-night stands. Pepper, Happy and Rhodey were the only constants. After … well, he still worked too much, drink too much and threw parties on a whim, but the guest list was shorter and the reasons more altruistic. He embraced the media’s portrayal of him, but the truth was Tony didn’t have to invite the team to live in the tower. He didn’t have to hire Darcy when SI stole Jane away from SHIELD. He certainly didn’t have to give a lowly lab assistant a free place to live, or revamp that living space to accommodate her child.

Darcy stepped forward.

“Hey now.” Tony held his hands up. “No need to get physical.”

She ignored him, putting her arms around his waist and pressing close. She rested her head against where his arc reactor used to be.

“Um …” Tony held himself stiffly, his hands still over his head.

“Stop.” Darcy tightened her grip, knowing Tony could pull free if he really wanted to. She waited, wishing she could see the emotions play out on his face as he tried to figure out what to do. Hopefully Jarvis was recording this. “I’m not leaving until you hug me.”

It took another minute before he lowered his arms, gingerly wrapping them around her back. He waited. “Now what?”

“You want a time limit on hugging?”

“I’ve got things to do, Lewis.”

She rolled her eyes. “Thirty more seconds.” He heaved a sigh, but she felt some of the tension leave his body. “You’re counting, aren’t you?”

“Shut up.”

* * *

 

“So.” Jane pushed aside her bowl of chicken tortilla soup and folded her arms on top of the table.

“How was your lecture?” Darcy asked, hoping to divert the conversation. She knew that twinkle in her friend’s eye. She wanted to girl talk. There was a time Darcy wanted nothing more to do girl talk with Jane. It took months to that point in their relationship, but with great power comes a tiny astrophysicist who won’t let things go.

“Don’t change the subject. You slept with Steve last night!”

“Jane!” Darcy hissed as she whipped her head around the crowded food court. It was filled with the regular mix of SI employees and New York tourists hopeful for a glimpse of one or more of the Avengers. They’d chosen a table as close to the corner of the eating area as they could get; the other tables around them either empty or taken by people too caught up in their own conversations to pay attention.

“Spill it.”

“No!”

Jane leaned back. She crossed her arms over her chest. Shit. She was wearing what Darcy called her professor look. Even Thor cowered when he saw that expression on Jane’s face.

“Fine! Yes, I slept with Steve!”

“And …”

“And what?”

“You know.”

Darcy’s mouth fell open. “No.” She was emphatic. They were not doing that. She was going to be someone’s mother! A mother didn’t divulge how many times a man brought her to orgasm, even if he was the father!

“It’s your game!”

“So I can end it when I want to.” Darcy stuffed a forkful of chicken Caesar salad in her mouth and chewed.

Jane rolled her eyes, but went back to sipping her soup. “Can I ask one question, not related to numbers in any way?”

Darcy nodded her assent.

“What does it mean, sleeping with Steve? Are you back together? Do you want to be back together?”

“That’s three questions.” Darcy took another bite of her lunch. Honestly, she didn’t know what she wanted. Before yesterday, she wanted sex. She wanted to scratch an itch and was so sure it would never happen, she didn’t think beyond that. After dinner, Steve shared a little of what he talked about with Kurt. It seemed almost callous to kick him to the door afterwards, so they settled on the couch to watch television, Darcy drifting off before _The Tonight Show_.

She woke as he was carrying her to bed, the two of them saying nothing as he walked through the apartment. There was less urgency than hours before, but somehow the intent was greater. Sex was one thing. Sleeping together was something else. She knew he wanted to stay. He didn’t bother hiding that from her, but he didn’t ask. It was her decision. He laid her on the bed. Her hand shot out, grabbing his before he stood to his full height. She didn’t say the words. She didn’t have to. He smiled as she moved over, making room for him to join her under the fresh sheets. He curled around her body, one hand resting on her stomach. He kissed the back of her neck, his breath warm on her skin as they fell asleep.

“Hey.” Clint appeared from nowhere, dragging a plastic chair to their table and straddling it with his arms crossed over the back. “Word has it you and Cap tore up the sheets last night.”

Ohmigod, did someone tape a sign to her back or something? “Who the hell told you?”

Clint’s grin was smug. “You just did.” He easily caught the breadstick she beamed at his face, taking a bite. “I passed the man in question this morning. He smelled like your shampoo.”

“Fucking spies,” Darcy grumbled.

Clint snatched a piece of chicken from Darcy’s salad. She slapped his hand. “Christ, Darce! I thought getting some would make you happy. Are you sure you did it right?” He leaned closer. “Give me the deets.”

Darcy pushed away from the table. She was going back to work. “Never say ‘deets’ again, dude. Please.”

“You leave now and that proves I’m right!”

So it was like, huh? Darcy pressed her hands flat on the table and leaned towards the archer. “You want to know if we did it right?” Her eyes flicked over to Jane. “Nine,” she said.

Jane’s mouth fell open. “Nine?” she squeaked.

“Three before he even took his pants off. Or rather, I took them off for him."

Clint looked between the two women. Jane looked awed; Darcy smugly satisfied. “Do I want to know that that means?”

Darcy patted him on the shoulder. “Think about it.”

Her phone chimed three hours later.

Steve: Jarvis played _Whatta Man_ when I walked into the gym. Any idea why?

Clint was so out of the running for godfather.


	13. Chapter 13

Darcy staggered out through her apartment door, kicking her shoes off in the entryway with a dramatic sigh. Home. Finally. She continued into the living, dropping her purse and several shopping bags in the process. Natasha and Pepper followed in her wake. Both women looked cool and unruffled, while she felt like she’d been put through the wringer and hung out to dry.

Steve glanced over from where he was watching a baseball game with Bucky, jumping to his feet when he saw Darcy. “What happened?”

“Shopping,” she said tiredly as Steve led her to the armchair that was practically the size of a Buick. He sat with Darcy nestled between his thighs. “Shopping happened.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, but that didn’t stop her from grabbing a throw pillow from the couch and placing it on the ottoman for Darcy to elevate her feet. She smiled her thanks; her eyes sliding shut as Steve gently kneaded her shoulders with one hand. The other he rested possessively on her stomach. Darcy was 28 weeks into her pregnancy and recently started to feel the baby kick, though they weren’t quite strong enough for Steve to feel. Bruce assured him they would be soon. He took that to mean that if he was within 10 feet of Darcy, his hand was on her belly.

“You needed maternity clothes,” Natasha reminded Darcy.

“I had maternity clothes,” Darcy muttered, eyes still closed.

“One pair of black stretch pants and Steve’s shirts aren’t maternity clothes,” Natasha replied.

“I agree,” Bucky chimed in.

Darcy tilted her head towards Bucky. “You just want me to wear something that emphasizes my boobs.”

The man lifted his glass of iced tea in salute. “Can you blame me?”

Darcy smiled. She was feeling considerably less sexy the further she got along in her pregnancy. Steve did what he could to assure her he found her as desirable now as he did the first time he kissed her, but he kind of had to be nice to her, considering it was his baby. Bucky, however, was under not under any obligation to stroke her ego.

“Stop ogling my girl – Darcy,” Steve glared at Bucky, everyone pretending they didn’t hear him stumble over the urge to call Darcy his girlfriend. They were no closer to defining who or what they were to each other since the first morning Darcy woke with Steve in her bed. The fact that he’d spent every night in her bed ever since wasn’t acknowledged aside from the occasional smirk from Clint, raised eyebrow from Nat and giggle from Jane.

“Make me,” Bucky smirked.

“Play nice boys,” Darcy said around a massive yawn.

* * *

 

Despite her unenthusiastic response to maternity clothes shopping, Darcy had to admit that the clothes Natasha and Pepper selected were certainly better than what she imagined. There were no pastels, no ribbons, no stupid arrow pointing to her stomach saying with the words “Baby on Board” in block letters. The clothing they selected practically duplicated her current wardrobe, but with elastic waistbands and shirts that flattered her even more generous bust without making her feel like a reject from Madonna’s Truth or Dare tour. She had to pull up YouTube to explain that reference to Steve. Apparently there were a few things that could still make the good captain blush.

“Food!” Darcy walked – She did not and would not waddle, dammit! – down the stairs, dressed in a pair of red cotton pants, and a black-and-white striped V-neck T-shirt. Her feet were bare so she could show off the pedicure Pepper treated her and Natasha to as a thank you for not tasing (Darcy) or hitting (Natasha) every person who touched or made a move to touch Darcy’s belly. They had no idea why the world thought it was OK to touch a pregnant woman’s stomach without permission, but it was time to shut that shit down.

Steve helped Darcy down the last few stairs, one arm curled around her protectively. Bucky rolled his eyes, ignoring the twin sets of glares the parents-to-be gave him. In the three days he’d been at the tower, eye rolling and sighing were his default reactions to whatever the two of them refused to acknowledge, their combined stubbornness and pride putting everyone around them on edge.

Again.

“You know you love him, doll,” Bucky argued as he helped Darcy rearrange the baby’s clothes for the third time. The books called it nesting. He called it avoiding what was fucking obvious.

“It’s not that simple.”

“It’s not so damn difficult, either.”

The three of them made their way to the common floor for a combination team dinner/baby shower planning session. Darcy tried to talk her female friends out of the tradition, but Pepper was always ready to host a party in which Tony’s influence was nonexistent, Jane never attended a baby shower before, let alone co-hosted one, and Natasha … Darcy wasn’t quite sure why Natasha latched onto the idea so tightly, but she wasn’t going to be the one to tell the Black Widow no.

“You know,” Darcy said around a mouthful of pasta, “I don’t think I’m supposed to have a say in the theme and colors. I just show up, open presents, try not to freak out when people share childbirth stories and go home – hopefully with cake. There’s gonna be cake, right?”

Natasha held up a business card of a dessert chef Pepper often used for SI gatherings. “We know you love her vanilla bean cake with white chocolate ganache and raspberries.”

She changed her mind. Baby showers were the bomb.

“Traditionally, yellow or pale green are the colors used when a couple chooses not to learn the gender of the baby,” Pepper mused, flipping through a collection of swatches.

“Yeah, why is it we don't know that?” Tony interrupted. “You hate surprises, Lewis. Is this Capsicle’s idea? You know, as the person carrying his spawn, you have the control. Don’t let him bully you.”

“I’m not bullying her,” Steve argued at the same time Darcy said “It was my idea.”

Seven people stared at her in disbelief.

“What? I can have layers!”

Two hours later, the team was sprawled around the media room, watching Jim Carrey try his best to keep Kate Winslet from leaving his memories in _Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind_. Normally, Darcy worshipped the ground Kate Winslet walked on – had since _Titanic_ and would for the rest of her life – but she couldn’t focus. She was reclined in Steve’s lap, her back to his front, tracing shapes on the backs of his hands resting on her stomach. He was serious about not missing the baby kick.

“You’re tense,” he murmured in her ear. “What’s wrong?”

Good question. What was wrong? She had the suspicious feeling that she was forgetting something. Did she leave the stove on? No, Jarvis would turn it off. Did she forget to get that report to Pepper? No, she signed off on it the other day. Jane. Did Jane have dinner? Yes; she actually ate two servings and snagged the last piece of garlic bread. Good for her.

There was a rumble of thunder outside.

“Oh crap.”

* * *

 

“YOU HAVE DISHONORED MY SISTER!”

Thor’s face was red with fury, energy swirling around him as he glared at Steve. Darcy supposed it could be worse. He could still have Mew-Mew in his hand, waving it about as he raged against the man he considered a brother defiling the woman he called his sister. Jane somehow managed to talk him into putting it down. Both she and Clint were sitting on it, as if that would actually stop it from going anywhere.

“Thor –“ Steve’s hands were up, his stance and voice calm as he faced the demigod. Before Bucky’s return, Thor was the only one Steve ever used his full strength on when sparring. Neither one ever claimed victory or defeat when that occurred. Darcy really hoped they tonight wasn't the night they finally learned who was stronger.

“You dare stand there and face me as if you are innocent?!?” Thor roared. “Lady Darcy is with child, your child, and you have not declared your love for her?”

“Not declared -- I love her!” Steve shouted, some of his control slipping. “I’ve always loved her! I will always love her!”

That was not enough for the God of Thunder. “You have not made your intentions known to the world! She does not wear a ring! She does not share your name!”

“Wait a minute!” Jane interjected. She had been watching the theatrics with a small smile – partly because Thor was back and partly because she was a romantic at heart -- but real life, as Darcy pointed out many times, was not a Nicholas Sparks book. “A woman does not have to take her husband’s name.”

“Yeah, Foster; let’s focus on that and not the epic battle that’s about to destroy my tower. Again.” Tony sassed. "There had got to be an insurance company with a policy for Asgardian royalty."

Thor turned to his beloved, confused. “Is this true? If we were to marry, you would not accept my name?”

Jane looked flushed as everyone waited for her answer. “Um … well, I’ve been Jane Foster all my life. It would be weird to suddenly not be.”

“You could hyphenate,” Clint suggested, wincing as Natasha smacked his head. “What? A lot of people do that!”

Jane considered that. “Jane Foster-Odinson,” she mused. “Dr. Foster-Odinson. That could work.”

Thor looked mollified, but then he caught Steve turning to ask Darcy if she was OK and his anger focused on the blond one more. “You have not had this discussion! You say you love her and yet you’re not willing to make your commitment public. Are you ashamed, Steven?”

Thor easily blocked Steve’s fist to his face. “If you ever insinuate that this baby is something to be ashamed of again, I will find a way to hurt you,” Steve snarled.

“Aye,” Thor nodded, letting Steve’s fist go. “I apologize. But you must understand that as Darcy’s brother --”

“Technically, Point Break, she’s an only child,” Tony interrupted.

“—as Darcy’s brother,” Thor emphasized, “it is my responsibility to look out for her and defend her honor.”

“I understand, but you need to remember that this isn’t Asgard,” Steve told Thor. “Darcy is her own person and makes her own decisions.”

Thor crossed his arms over his chest. “And is that why we’re not planning a wedding? Has she refused your offer of marriage?”

“He didn’t offer to marry me!” Darcy piped up from where she was standing next to Bucky, Steve having thrust her at his best friend when Thor appeared made his presence known.

“Yes I did!” Steve’s eyes were wide with shock, as if he couldn’t believe she’d ever believe he wouldn’t want to marry her.

“Technically, you said we should get married,” Darcy reminded him. “You told; you never asked.”

All of the men in the room groaned. Bucky shook his head. “Jesus, punk. Will you ever learn how to talk to women?”

Steve ignored them. “Is that it?" he asked as he approached Darcy. "You want me to ask you?”

“No. I mean yes, but no.” Darcy shook her head. She was getting a headache and the baby was using her bladder as a trampoline. “Look, everyone, this is not your business, but I’m saying this now for the sake of all future discussions about Steve’s and my, well, future. We are not engaged to be married. We plan to raise this child together, but we do yet not know how that will look, whether we are together or not.”

Thor was not satisfied with Darcy’s answer. “But you love each other. you should get married.”

“Thor, no one should get married because there’s a baby on the way. My parents did that and they were a terrible couple!”

Not it was Jane’s turn to look perplexed. “But you love your parents!”

Darcy nodded. “I do. They’re awesome -- apart. They were terrible together. Our family was a lot happier when they finally admitted that and got divorced. When I get married, if I get married, it has to be because that’s what I want. I won’t let a baby or my friends," she turned to Steve with an apologetic expression, "or even the man I love make that decision for me.”

Pepper took Tony’s arm. “Maybe we should leave,” she suggested, gesturing to the door.

“Pep,” he whined, but followed her reluctantly, the others close behind. Thor still looked dissatisfied, but then Jane took his hand and squeezed it tight, distracting him enough that he, too, was led out of the room. Pepper had Jarvis seal the doors shut, telling him they could only open under Darcy or Steve’s command.

Darcy was unaware of the group’s departure. She was too busy watching Steve, trying to decipher what it was he was feeling. “I know you wanted us to be together, really be together, by the time the baby arrives but I … I’m not ready for that level of commitment right now. And I don’t know when I will be -- or if I’ll ever be.” Sorry seemed like such am empty phrase, but that was all she had to offer when she took his hand in hers. “I wish it could be different.”

He swallowed, nodding his head a few times as he struggled to reign in whatever he was feeling. “I get it,” he finally said, his voice hoarse. “I hurt you. I’m trying to make up for it, but I shouldn’t expect you to ... I’m sorry, Darcy. I messed everything up and I’m so sorry. I should have trusted you more. I should have talked to you, listened to you.”

“Yeah, well … maybe I should have fought harder." She thought back to that night, how important it was for her to be strong, to not let him know in any way how much she was hurting. "I just let you go.”

Steve chuckle was hollow. “Doubt it would have done much good, sweetheart. I don’t know if you’ve figured this out, but I’ve got a hard head.”

Her responding smile was tinged with sadness. “I've heard rumors.”


	14. Chapter 14

She didn’t feel good.

Darcy flopped onto her couch, wishing she was anywhere but her apartment. An island, perhaps. Somewhere quiet. Secluded. She wanted to hide, which was so not like her, but she hadn’t felt like herself since she watched the little piece of plastic go from no line to blue.

She hurt Steve. She knew that. He’d spent the last few months doing everything he could to show he was committed to their baby and hopeful for the possibility that they would, once again, be we. She didn’t doubt his love for their not-yet-known son or daughter. He’d be a great dad: loving, supportive and protective. The fact that he was seeing a counselor, that he actually pushed past his old-fashioned “Suck it up and deal, son” ideology to improve his mental well-being, was incredible. She knew it wasn’t easy, knew that admitting he needed help went against everything he was, but he was doing it.

“Aughh!” she buried her face in a throw pillow. He was trying. This is what she wanted, so what was holding her back? Why couldn’t she just take that step, and tell Steve and she wanted them to be together? Not together like they had been, but REALLY together as in his clothes mixed with hers in the closet and fighting over the remote control, sitting on the couch, doing nothing, but knowing the person you loved doing nothing with was on the opposite end.

Her phone rang. She considered ignoring it. She knew Thor wanted to talk to her, hopefully to apologize for overreacting, but she wasn’t up for another round of flawed Asgardian logic. She glanced at her screen.

Dad.

“Hey Pops.”

She could feel Greg Lewis’ smile through the line. “There’s my girl. How are you feelin’, sweet pea?”

“Huge.”

There was a pause. “I don’t think there’s any way I can respond to that without insulting you and making you cry. Or, if I’m lucky, making you laugh.”

“Which you’re not allowed to do anymore,” she reminded him.

“Yes, yes; I remember. Your bladder control is not what it used to be,” he deadpanned. “Of course, there’s part of me that would like to take advantage of that, given how many times you urinated on me when you were a baby.”

“Dad,” she groaned.

“And spit up,” he continued. “There were a few times you got some real distance! I’m talking the pea soup scene in _The Exorcist_.”

“Dad!”

He laughed. “Fine, fine. I’ll save the stories for when I visit next month. That gives me time to find photos.”

Darcy sat up. “Next month? You’re coming to New York?”

“Mmm-hmm. I received a Save the Date e-mail from Pepper Potts, Natasha Romanov and Jane for your baby shower. Back in my day, baby showers were a woman-only gathering. Please tell me that’s changed. I love you, sweetie, but I really don’t want to be the only man at this shindig.”

“They sent Save the Date notifications already?” Darcy asked. “They just finalized the theme a few hours ago!”

“You have efficient friends,” Greg remarked. “How’d that happen?”

“Hell if I know,” Darcy sighed.

There was a lull in the conversation. Darcy hoped that meant her father got the information he was looking for and was going to hang up, but she wasn’t that lucky and he was, unfortunately for her, perceptive.

“What’s wrong? Besides the decrease in bladder control.”

“Nothing,” she lied.

Silence.

“Really,” she insisted.

More silence.

“Don’t do that,” Darcy growled. “I hate when you pull the ‘Say nothing until the other person is uncomfortable and they’ll talk’ trick on me!”

“It works,” Greg replied.

“I know,” Darcy muttered.

“So spill,” Greg commanded. “Is it the baby? Is he, or she, OK? Are you OK? Is it Tony? Is he still trying to convince you to take a DNA test? Is it Steve? I’ve never threatened a national icon before and I’m a pacifist by nature, but I can glare convincingly until he apologizes for whatever it is he did that made you upset.”

Darcy smiled. “The baby is fine, I’m fine, Tony is Tony and Steve …” She took a deep breath. “I screwed up, Dad. I thought I could do this. I really thought I could be the ultra-modern mom and co-parent the crap out of this baby, but I can’t! There are feelings and it’s messy and what I thought I wanted isn’t what I want anymore, but I can’t say what I want because that makes it real and everything is too real already!”

“Oh honey,” Greg sighed. “Why are you so scared?”

“I don’t want to get hurt,” she sniffed.

“But love hurts, baby. It’s supposed to. That’s how you know you care.”

Darcy shook her head. She knew she cared. And she knew caring as much as she did had the ability to shatter her. She suffered through it before. How much of a masochist was she to even _consider_ doing it again?

“You are not me, Darcy, nor are you your mother,” Greg continued.

“The situation feels the same.”

“But it isn’t,” Greg argued.

“Steve didn’t try to contact me once after we broke up, but the second I turn up pregnant, he suddenly wants back in my life. Tell me, Dad, how that isn’t the same as you and mom getting married when she found out she was pregnant.”

“Well, first, I am not a superhero.”

“Dad!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Greg said, not sounding at all like he meant it. “Sweetie, your mother and I chose to get married. The fact that she was pregnant at the time meant nothing.”

“But you ended up breaking up,” Darcy reminded him.

She couldn’t see it, of course, but Darcy could imagine her dad nodding his head. “It wasn’t meant to be, Darcy. I loved your mother. I still love your mother. She’s my best friend in the entire world, but we were not meant to be husband and wife. You know this, sweetheart. Your mother is a million times happier with Daniel than she ever was with me. We tried to make it work, but it didn’t. In the end, it was more important that we divorce and remain friends than stay married and lose each other. That was our choice, Darcy; our decision. It had nothing to do with you.”

“But –“

“No buts!” Greg was firm. “We did not get married because we were pregnant. We got married because we loved each other. That’s the only reason two people should ever get married.”

Darcy bit her lip. “But what if … what if that’s not enough?” she asked. “You loved mom and you couldn’t make it. Why take the risk?”

“Because life is full of risks,” Greg replied. “Sweetie, if I could do it all over again, even knowing what I do now, I’d still marry your mom because it was worth it! We had some good years and we got you out of it. I’m not going to pretend I know everything that went on between you and Steve, but I do know this: I’d much rather be able to look back and know I tried my best than spend the rest of my life imagining what could have been.”

Darcy twirled a lock of hair around her finger. He was right. She knew he was right, and yet … “You make it sound simple.”

“Most of our problems are when you really think about it.”

“I don’t want to get hurt,” she repeated.

“No one is saying you will, no one is saying you won’t. You have to decide what you’re willing to live with. If that means not choosing Steve, so be it. I’ll support you in any decision you make, as will your mother, your stepfather and your friends.”

“What about the baby? Wouldn’t it be better if he had both parents?”

“Darcy Amelia Lewis! I don’t ever want to hear you say something so asinine ever again! You are more than enough to be a kickass parent with or without a partner. Your child will have a wonderful life because you are his mother and don’t you ever think different!”

“But don’t use my grandbaby as an excuse,” Greg cautioned. “Whatever happens next has to be because that’s what _you_ want. This is your life, Darcy. You are responsible for what happens next.”

Darcy snorted. “Did you get that from Oprah?”

“Please,” Greg laughed. “You know I’m all about Ellen!”

* * *

 

She considered sleeping on it. She took a shower, changed into a pair of plaid flannel pajama pants and long sleeved T-shirt, and slid into bed. She spent 15 minutes staring at her ceiling before she admitted defeat.

“Jarvis, where’s Steve?”

“Captain Rogers is in the gym.”

Of course he was. That’s where he went when he needed to think. Or forget. She pulled on a pair of socks and left her apartment, grateful it was late enough to avoid running into anyone in the hall. She took the elevator to the gym, following the sounds of fists colliding with a punching bag. She stood outside the door. Maybe now wasn’t the time. He was obviously still working through some things. She could come back later. Or tomorrow. Maybe they could go for coffee.

Yeah, neutral ground. That would work.

“You gonna stand there all day?”

Darcy watched as Bucky slid through the doors, catching them before the metal clanged against the jam. His upper lip was split, blood drying near the corner of his mouth. His left eye was blackened and there was an impressive bruise on his collarbone. She’d be concerned that Steve took his frustration out on his best friend if she hadn’t borne witness to it before. Well, that and the fact that all traces of the fight would be gone by morning. “How many rounds did you go?”

The sound of a bag breaking off the chain and slamming into the cement wall made Bucky sigh. “Not enough,” he muttered, running a hand through his sweat-soaked hair. “Look, Darce, I want the two of you to work this out. Now. No more of this will-they-or-won’t-they shit. Even if it breaks Stevie’s heart … He can’t keep going like this. You can’t keep going like this.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her so she was facing the gym doors. “It’s time to make a decision,” he said just before he pushed her inside, making sure to slam the door once she crossed the threshold, the sound grabbing Steve’s attention. He slowly walked towards her.

“Darcy …”

“Just so you know, Bucky’s chances of being the baby’s godfather have severely diminished.”

Steve forced a smile. “You keep narrowing the list and we’re gonna end up choosin’ Tony. Might want to reconsider.”

“Yeah,” Darcy sighed. She leaned against the wall and studied him. Like Bucky, his face looked like it ran into his friend’s fist several times. She tried not to stare as Steve pulled his shirt off, using the cotton to wipe the sweat off his face and arms. “Jesus,” she breathed, her fingers going out to brush against the dark bruises covering his chest. “How long were you at it?”

Steve shook his head. “Is there something you need, Darce? ‘cause if not, ‘m not really up for company right now.”

She swallowed. Sink or swim. Go time. 110 percent. A million other stupid sports analogies that never made any sense to her. “I, um, I … I wanted to apologize. For before. When I said I wasn’t ready for a commitment?”

“I remember.”

“Yeah,” she breathed, “’cause the thing is, I think I am, but I’m also not because I’m scared and I’m still scared, but I’m more scared that if we keep waiting, we’ll lose our chance, and I know we’re here right now because I’m having a baby and I want this to be a happy thing.”

“It _is_ a happy thing,” Steve insisted.

“I know! I know and that’s great and it’s great that you’re excited about it, but even with all that, there’s this, I don’t know, thing hanging over us because we’re together, but we’re not together, and you have been so careful about everything being my decision and my choice, which I appreciate, but I’m scared!” She shouted it, letting the words echo in the empty gym. “I’m so scared,” she repeated, softer this time. “You … Steve, you broke my heart. You say you love me, that you always loved me, but you never once reached out to me. If this baby wasn’t coming, would we even be here now?”

Steve looked frustrated. “Darcy, I can’t keep apologizin’ for that,” he said. “I fucked up. I know that.”

“I know and this isn’t about you saying sorry or trying to fix it, it’s about me and … I fucked up, too. And I’m still fucking up because I can’t let go of being hurt. It’s like … it’s almost like it’s a life preserver, something to hold on to, like a reminder not to go too deep or I’ll drown.”

Steve’s eyebrows furrowed. “I’m not sure I follow.”

“You hurt me,” she repeated. “I held on to that and my anger for a long time because it was easier than forcing myself to look at my shortcomings, too. Steve, everything with us moved so fast. We were friends and suddenly we were a couple. Then we weren’t. And now we’re going to be parents,” she finished on a hysterical laugh. “It’s ridiculous!”

“It’s fast,” he admitted, “but –“

“Exactly! Which is why I think we should date.” She watched his face go blank as he tried to digest what she just said. She didn’t blame him. She wasn’t sure what she was going to say when she confronted him, Bucky pushing her inside before she was ready (really, his chances at godfather weren’t looking that great), but the more she thought about it the idea, the more she liked it. “Dating,” she repeated. “A chance for me to get to know you and you to get to know me.”

“Darcy,” Steve hesitated. “Sweetheart, I know every inch of you.”

“Right,” she admitted, “physically, we’ve got each other down. And up. And lots of other things I don’t want to think about right now because sex is off the table.”

“It is?”

“Yes.”

“Because we’re dating?”

“Yes. Think of it like being back in the ‘40s.”

“People had sex when they dated in the ‘40s,” Steve reminded her.

Darcy rolled her eyes. “I know; I’ve heard the stories. I’m just … I don’t want to make a mistake, Steve. I want to be sure about us. No matter what happens, we get together or don’t get together, I want to be sure.”

Steve hooked his shirt around his neck. “OK, so we’ll date. How does that work?”

“I have no idea.”

His lips turned up in a mischievous grin. “Well, since it’s your idea, I think you should take me out first.”

“Steven Grant Rogers!” Darcy faked a gasp. “You’re going to make the girl plan the date?”

“Sweetheart, I’m going to make you _pay_ for the date.”

“Then we’re definitely not going out to dinner.” She turned to leave the gym. “Coffee,” she tossed over her shoulder. “I’ll pick you up at your place at 10 a.m. tomorrow."


	15. Chapter 15

Darcy knocked on Steve’s door at 10 a.m. She wasn’t surprised when the door swung open before she even lowered her fist.

“You’re prompt,” Steve grinned. “I like that in a woman.”

“First impressions are important,” Darcy agreed, bringing the arm she had tucked behind her back forward and offering Steve her take on first-date flowers: a Chia Pet. She’d debated over which one to purchase for longer than she cared to admit, finally deciding to go with the original ram: a classic piece of American pop culture for the classic American superhero.

“Uh …” Steve took the box, tilting it from side to side as he looked it over. “Thanks?”

“Sure. Everyone does roses, right?”

“There’s nothing worse than being a cliché.” Steve carefully set the box on the bench near his door. He pulled his leather jacket from the coat hook and shrugged into it before grabbing his navy blue baseball cap. “Coffee?” he asked as he tugged the brim of the hat low over his forehead. As far as disguises went, it was surprisingly effective. People expected Captain America to carry the shield at all times. Without it, Steve was just another tall blond with a physique that spoke of dedicated hours at the gym.

“Coffee,” Darcy agreed as they made their way to the elevator. They didn’t speak as the car took them to the main floor, a silence that stretched another two blocks. “Well, this certainly has all the awkwardness of a first date.”

Steve chuckled as he held the door open to Darcy’s favorite coffee shop, his laughter diminishing the tension. Maybe this wasn’t a stupid idea. “Why don’t you grab us a table?” Darcy suggested as she got in line.

Steve hesitated. Yes, he was gleeful when he said she was going to pay for the first date, but she knew actually going through with it went against his beliefs, dated as they were. Still, she gave him props for nodding, weaving his way through the too-small tables pushed close together. “One large iced tea, no lemon, one medium lemonade, and two peanut butter cookies,” Darcy told the cashier. She leaned against the counter as she waited for their order. The second her name was called, Steve was at her side, helping her carry the drinks to the table he secured in the back. She smiled as he held her chair out for her, sliding in with a grateful sigh. Steve sat across from her, his eyes drifting to her stomach for a split second before they made contact with hers. “What?” she asked.

“Am I allowed to ask how you’re feeling?”

She smiled. He was a good guy for playing along. She gave him a point in her Steve’s-a-good-guy column. “I’m fine. Heeled boots aren’t as comfortable as they used to be, but they went with this outfit, so fashion over function.”

“You look beautiful,” Steve told her.

“Thanks. You look cute, too.”

He rolled his eyes and took a sip of his iced tea. He was never comfortable with compliments about his looks, once admitting there were still times he’d catch his reflection in a storefront and be surprised by the image. Darcy took a sip of her lemonade. She wished it was coffee. God, she missed coffee. That was another point in Steve’s favor. He didn’t have an attachment to caffeine, thanks to the serum. Like alcohol, it did nothing for him, making him the perfect person to hang out with when you weren’t allowed to have such things.

“So Steve,” Darcy folded her hands on the table. “Tell me about yourself. Who would you say has been the biggest influence on your life?”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

She nodded. “I spent an hour trolling dating websites for the perfect Q&A topics.”

“Darcy, I’ve known you for years!”

“But you haven’t dated me for years,” she pointed out. “If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right.”

He shook his head, but he was grinning. “Fine, but quid pro quo.”

“Fair enough.” She broke her cookie in thirds and took a bite. “Stop stalling.”

Steve leaned back in his seat. “My biggest influence on my life … probably Bucky.”

“Who’s Bucky?”

He gave her a look.

“Dude, it’s our first date. I have no idea who Bucky is. He could be your Golden Retriever or an imaginary friend!”

“Fine,” Steve pulled off his ball cap, ran his fingers through his hair and started talking. “Bucky’s my best friend. I met him when I was getting beat up in some alley when we were kids.” Steve’s face took on a bemused expression as he got lost in the memory. “The guy was a few years older and a lot bigger than me, bigger than Bucky even, but he jumped in, pounding on the guy until he decided we weren’t worth it, though to hear Buck tell this story, he kicked his ass.”

“Is getting beat up something that happens to you often?” Darcy asked.

“Nu-huh,” Steve shook his head. “You already asked a question. It’s my turn.”

They stayed at the coffee shop for nearly two hours. Darcy acquiesced to Steve’s insistence that he buy the second round of drinks, though she paid for the pretzels purchased from a food vendor on their walk back to the tower. As far as faux first dates went, she’d call it a success. After they got over the awkwardness of the whole question-and-answer session, it was actually enjoyable.

She wasn’t exaggerating when she told Steve she wanted to get to know him. They were friends before they were lovers, but even then their friendship was based more on her knowledge and explanation of pop culture than anything personal. They bonded because she was the first person who didn’t have expectations of him beyond Steve Rogers.

“I had fun,” Steve said as they stood outside his door.

“You sound surprised.”

“Maybe a little,” he admitted. “I mean, we’re having a baby together, but going on a first date? Who does that?”

“Dude. You once wrestled a 20 foot electric eel and you think this was strange?”

“Touché.”

There was a pause, but it wasn’t awkward. Instead, they stood there, smiling at each other. Jarvis must have been keeping the others away because Darcy was self-aware enough to know theirs was a situation their friends would love to observe. And mock.

“Is the date over?” Steve asked.

“Just one more thing.” Darcy put her hand on Steve’s arm for balance and pressed her lips to his cheek, lingering just a moment longer than casual. “I had fun, too.”

“If I were to text you and ask for a second date, would you say yes?”

She played it cool. “Maybe.”

He took his phone out of his jacket, his fingers moving quickly over the screen. Darcy heard her phone chime a second later. She pulled it out of her purse.

_Steve: Hey Darcy, it’s Steve. Any chance you’re free Friday night?_

She tucked the phone away without responding. “I wouldn’t want to seem too eager,” she told Steve.

“God forbid,” he said dryly.

“If it helps, I’m gonna say yes when I do reply.”

“It does; thanks.”

Her smile was wide and indulgent. “Now the date is over.”

His hands immediately covered her stomach. They had agreed that during their dates, they would do their best to pretend that Darcy wasn’t pregnant with their child, a stipulation Steve agreed to under two conditions: if the baby was kicking, he was allowed to touch her and try to feel the movement, and they could openly discuss the pregnancy after a date ended. “How are you really?”

Darcy shrugged. “Alright, I guess. I gained another pound, which is good.”

Steve rubbed his hand over her stomach. “We’re still set for your appointment Thursday?”

“Straight up noon,” Darcy confirmed, shifting her weight from one foot to the next.

“Shit – I’m sorry!” Steve turned and punched his code in the small unit next to his door. “Come on,” he placed his hand at the small of her back. “You need to get off your feet.”

Steve led her into his apartment, kicking aside several pairs of shoes on his way to his couch. Two shirts were tossed over the back of an armchair, along with a light gray sweater. Darcy settled on the couch, tucking the cushion Steve handed her behind her back. “Since when are you not meticulous about your clothes?” she asked, knowing Steve was very careful of his possessions, a byproduct of growing up with next to nothing.

“Oh. That.” He picked up the shirts, carrying them into his bedroom. She watched as he repeated the movement with the shoes: three pairs. “That,” she echoed when he sat down beside her. The tips of his ears were pink. He mumbled something under his breath.

“What?”

“I couldn’t figure out what to wear,” he said, leaning forward to pick up the remote control. He turned the TV on, avoiding her gaze as he flipped through the channels, eventually settling on an episode of _Cupcake Wars_.

“You’re adorable,” Darcy told him.

“Don’t tell Bucky.”

* * *

 

_Darcy: I am free Friday night. What do you want to do?_

_Steve: It’s a surprise. Dress casual._

Darcy asked Natasha to do her Natasha thing and find out which version of casual Steve meant, as there were at least 632 options in girl world. Out of loyalty to her teammate, the redhead refused to reveal what she learned, but selected Darcy’s outfit: navy blue cargo pants, a short-sleeved white shirt and a gray hoodie with her not-so-white-anymore Chucks. “Minimal makeup, hair in a ponytail.”

It was the perfect outfit for baseball game, otherwise knowns as Date No. 2. Technically, Steve hated the Yankees, but Darcy was a Cubs fan and refused to step foot in Citi Field. She was perfectly happy to root against the White Sox at Yankee Stadium.

Darcy swallowed her last bite of chicken and waffles, washing it down with orange soda, grateful for the elastic waistband of her pants. Pregnancy bonus. Steve was finishing his second bacon cheddar stuffed burger – and that was after they split two orders of French fries. She wondered if the fifth inning was too soon to think about dessert. “Oh!”

“Darcy! What’s wrong?”

She grabbed Steve’s hand and pressed it against her stomach. “Big kick,” she breathed. “Either the baby loves waffles or hates the White Sox as much as I do.” She tuned out the roaring crowd, willing the baby to kick again. Steve was desperate to feel it. She knew it bothered him that Bucky felt the baby’s movements, his metal hand more sensitive than flesh and blood. She pressed her hand against her side, hoping to give things a bit of a jump start.

“Was that – is that the baby?” Steve’s eyes were wide, his smile wider. He looked like a kid on Christmas morning after finding a shiny new bicycle under the tree.

“That’s our soccer player.” Darcy winced as something – An arm? Foot? – collided with her ribs. “OK, kiddo, you’re strong. We get it.”

“Darcy,” Steve whispered. “This is … this is incredible. You’re incredible.” He kissed her, a chaste press of his lips against hers, but it was enough to get the baby kicking even more. Steve rested his forehead against Darcy’s and laughed.

That was the image broadcast on the big screen kiss cam to thousands of baseball fans: a man and woman with their hands over her swollen stomach, smiling at each another. If there was a citywide increase in births 40 weeks later, this was the moment that caused it – not that Darcy or Steve were aware of it.

* * *

 

“How long are you going to keep this up?”

Darcy saved her document before closing the lid on her laptop. “Keep what up?” she asked Bucky, who was sprawled in one of the chairs across from her desk. Steve was spending a week at the Avengers facility, running a few exercises with the recruits. Bucky volunteered to stay at the tower and keep an eye on Darcy. Actually, what he volunteered for was taking Steve’s place on their dates and finally showing her a good time, a comment that left him a bruised rib from his oldest friend.

“Dating,” he scoffed.

“You told me to work it out,” she reminded him.

“Yeah, but I meant more time in the sack, not walks in Central Park or visiting museums.”

“I think it’s romantic,” Natasha announced from behind Bucky. To his credit, he didn’t move, but Darcy saw his eyes darken before he turned to give her his usual appraising look.

“You lookin’ to be wooed, Natalia?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps. If there’s anyone worth being wooed by.” She turned to Darcy. “Dinner at 7, малютка?”

“Sounds good. I’ll make sure Pepper is out of her office by 6:30 if you’ll take Jane.”

Natasha nodded once and left. Darcy watched Bucky watch her leave. “Still think dating is stupid?”

He spared her a glance. “Don’t tell Steve.”


	16. Chapter 16

Darcy watched Bucky and Natasha on the dance floor, the two of them moving in a way that somehow spoke of familiarity and newness at the same time. She smiled as Bucky effortlessly twirled Natasha away, catching her hand at the last second to pull her into a flip that ended with him dipping her low to the ground. She couldn’t hear what he said – the music was too loud and Clint was the one who read lips – but it made Natasha smile.

Not smirk. Smile.

“It looks like it’s going well,” Darcy commented as she leaned back on the L-shaped booth, trying to find a comfortable position. Days away from 34 weeks, it was getting harder. She still wasn’t sure going to a nightclub was the best idea – and this is from a woman who once threatened Nick Fury – but then Natasha presented her with a red lace maternity dress, low heels and a speech that fired up all of her “I am woman; hear me roar!” genes.

Steve’s lips quirked as he watched Bucky execute a series of flashy moves, the lithe redhead following his lead with little effort.

“You know, take away the lights and the music, and I’d swear we were back at the tower, watching the two of them sparring in the gym,” Darcy sipped her drink slowly. “’Course, the sexual tension there is more murder. This is …”

“Foreplay,” Steve supplied.

“Yeah,” Darcy agreed with a heavy sigh. Foreplay. They looked hot. They were easily the best-looking couple in the club – and she had Steve Rogers sitting next to her, his long arms stretched along the back of the leather sofa, his fingers absently playing with the ends of her hair.

She glanced at Steve out of the corner of her eye. They’d been doing the dating thing for more than a month and she felt closer to him now than she had the entire year they were together. They talked, Steve opening up about the things he used to try to hide from her and Darcy sharing her own concerns about his job and what it meant to their relationship. Just last week, he stopped by with a thick folder and his tablet, handing both to Darcy before going to the kitchen to get them something to drink. She opened the folder, her mouth dropping open as dozens of photos of her fell to the floor.

_“Are these …”_

_“Those are the surveillance photos,” Steve confirmed, joining her on the couch. He picked up the ones that had fallen, sifting through them with a grim look. “We still don’t know who took them; probably never will.” He tossed them on the table, pulling up a file. “These were the leads we were able to follow and eliminate,” he said, handing the tablet to her. Most of the reports were heavily redacted, Darcy’s security clearance practically nonexistent compared to Steve’s, but she remembered Bucky describing Steve as practically crazed in his attempts to silence anyone and everyone who posed a threat._

_“You’ve been busy,” she remarked, trying to keep the moment light._

_“I’m never going to stop worrying about you,” Steve told her. “I know you’ve trained in self-defense. I know you have a panic button and security detail, but none of that seems like enough_

_when you’ve seen what I’ve seen. I also know I can’t keep you or our baby locked away from the world. I tried to do that before and I lost you.” He picked up one of her hands, cradling it on both of his. “Darcy, I was miserable without you. I knew the second I left that it was a mistake.”_

_“Why didn’t you come back?”_

_“Because I was scared,” he confessed. “I still am.”_

_“So what’s different?”_

_Steve’s sigh was heavy. “I know what it’s like not to have you in my life. Darcy, you mean everything to me. If you asked me to walk away from this, from the team, from being Captain America, I would.”_

_She shook her head. “I’d never do that. I know you’re more than Captain America, but you are him. And the world needs him.”_

_“You need me, too – just like I need you.”_

“I love you,” she said suddenly, her mouth going dry as Steve turned to give her that smile that tossed every pre-conceived notion she ever had about Captain America’s goodness out the window. He was good, but in a way few people were aware existed. He leaned forward, his lips a breath away from hers as he whispered “I love you.” They kissed, the press of their of lips turning into something more as one of Steve’s hands slid down Darcy’s back, pulling her closer as their bodies angled towards each other.

“You know,” she whispered breathlessly as Steve pressed kisses along her jawline, moving down her neck to suck lightly at her skin. “Bruce told me it’s still OK to have sex, even this far in the pregnancy.”

Steve’s eyes were dark as he looked at her. “Yeah?” he asked in a deep voice.

She nodded. “I’m going to have to be on top. And we should probably take it slow.”

Steve pressed his forehead against hers. “Sweetheart, I can go slow. You know that.”

She pushed him away with a groan. Yeah, he liked to draw things out. It was almost sadistic; the way he’d rev her up and keep her there as long as he could before finally letting her go. “Tell Bucky and Nat we’re leaving.”

He shook his head, standing up. “Not before I have a dance with my girl.” He held a hand out, watching her reaction to his choice of words.

She took it, letting him pull her to her feet, his strength making it practically graceful. “I never turn down a dance with my fella,” she teased, “especially if he promises to make it worth my while later.”

* * *

 

She was breathless, boneless, as she rolled off Steve. Her body was damp with sweat, her legs quivering from the aftershocks of her climax. She was thirsty. She needed water. Water and a shower. Hell, she’d open her mouth in the shower – once she was sure she could walk to the bathroom without falling.

“You OK?” Steve’s panted as he curled against her back, one hand settling on her stomach.

“Better than,” Darcy replied.

“Are you sure?” His hand trailed lower, his fingers brushing lightly over her.

She gasped, still sensitive. She was good, but she knew Steve. If she let on even a little that she was up for more, he wouldn’t stop. “Shower,” she said stubbornly, forcing all thoughts of a second round aside as she pushed herself into a sitting position. “Then clean sheets and sleep.”

She walked to the bathroom, pausing at the door with a raised eyebrow as she took in Steve still lying in the tangled sheets, his hair tousled from his hands. “Are you going to join me?”

His eyes were wary. “For which one?”

She leaned against the door jam. They would be the type of couple to have this conversation naked. “I’m hoping all three.”

He was up and in front of her within seconds, his hands cradling her face. “I love you, Darcy Lewis.”

She wrapped her hands around his wrists. “I know. I love you, too.”

“It’s going to be different this time,” he promised. “This time, I’m not gonna take it all on myself. If there’s a threat, I’m going to talk to you about it – and I hope you’ll listen. You and me, if we’re going to work, we have to talk to each other more. I’m not sayin’ it’s going to be easy, but I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you in my life.”

It was everything she wanted him to say before; everything she needed him to say now. She launched herself at him, both laughing and crying, her tears mixing with his as they kissed. No, it wasn’t going to be easy. It was going to be hard. Shit was going to happen, not only because of who they were and what they did, but because that was life, but he was the one she wanted to fight for, no matter what.

“Shower,” Steve pulled away, brushing away Darcy’s tears with his thumbs. “Then clean sheets and sleep.”

“I love a man with a plan,” she joked, smirking when he rolled his eyes.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There weren't as many edits to make on this as I thought! The final few chapters will be up within the hour!

“Darcy!!!”

Darcy pressed her forehead against the (thankfully, locked) bathroom door and prayed for strength. She loved Jane. She did. Jane was awesome. But she also tended to cross the border into crazy-hyper-town when she was excited about something. When it was science, that excitement led to aliens and wormholes. When it was a baby shower …

Darcy never thought she’d actually miss an alien attack.

“Darcy!” Jane’s pounded on the door. The baby decided to take her side and started kicking in unison. “Darcy, your parents are here!”

Oh God. Mom and Dad. Mom and Dad and Stepdad. Mom and Dad and Stepdad in the same room with Steve. Mom and Dad and Stepdad in the same room with _Tony_. This shower had disaster written all over it. There wasn’t enough vanilla bean cake in the world to convince her otherwise. She couldn’t do it. She wouldn’t. She was going to stay in the bathroom until it was over. Steve could play the gracious host. He was good at fake smiles and pretending to be happy. Besides, up to now, she was the one doing all the heavy lifting in this whole pregnancy deal. It was about time he got his feet wet.

“Darcy!” Jane shouted. “You better get your butt out of there right now or I’m getting Thor!”

Darcy snorted. That was an empty threat. Thor was still dealing with the guilty fallout of the whole “You’ve dishonored my sister!” fiasco – and he was worried she’d mention it to Sif at the shower. (She wouldn’t, but how often did a mortal have blackmail materials that made a Norse god nervous?)

There was a soft click before the doorknob turned. Darcy took a few steps back as Natasha swept inside, Jane directly behind her. “I hate living with spies.”

Natasha simply cocked her head as she took in Darcy’s appearance. The emerald green maxi maternity dress had a knotted belt around what still existed of her waist, giving her some semblance of a figure. She placed her hands on Darcy’s shoulders and turned her to face the mirror. “Hair up or down?”

“I started sweating the second I opened my eyes, so I’m thinking up.”

Natasha gathered Darcy’s hair in her hands, securing it at the nape of her, doing some twisty thing that left her with a simple, yet elegant up-do with loose curls framing her face. “Thank you.”

Natasha nodded, through her expression reflected in the mirror made it obvious she was waiting for something more.

“I’m sorry for being a brat?”

Her look was indulgent. Darcy wondered if she was the first to be on the receiving end of such a look from the Black Widow. “You’re pregnant.” For once, it’s didn’t sound like an excuse not to let Darcy do something.

“It’s allowed,” Jane added as she handed Darcy her earrings.

“How allowed?” Darcy slid the gold hoops through her earlobes. “Like ‘Darcy isn’t feeling well so we have to have the shower without her’ allowed?”

Jane took Darcy’s hand and pulled her out of the bathroom. “You’re going to have fun,” she promised. “I already told you we nixed the games and Natasha made it quite clear that anyone who calls you huge will be taken care of at a later date.”

“My parents?”

“Sam will take care of your stepdad, I’ll keep an eye on your mom and Bruce will shadow your dad.”

“Tony?” Darcy slipped on pair of nude wedges.

“Pepper,” Jane replied.

Darcy sighed. It sounded like they had it covered. She wouldn’t be surprised if they hadn’t mapped out the scenarios in the conference room beforehand. “If I forget to say it later, or I’ve blocked the memory of this afternoon from my brain, thank you. I still think the three of you are insane to have ever taken this on, but it means a lot to me that you did, so thanks.”

Natasha linked her arm through Darcy’s. “I’ve always wanted to see Tony interact at an alcohol-free event. This will be interesting.”

* * *

 

“Baby!”

Darcy braced herself for her mother’s greeting. Elizabeth Lewis was barely an inch taller than her daughter, but somehow managed to pack a ton of strength in that difference, nearly barreling over Jane in her rush to hug her daughter. The first whiff of her mother’s perfume had her blinking back tears as she returned her mother’s hug, burrowing her face in her neck. Seriously, pregnancy hormones sucked!

“Let me see you!” Elizabeth held Darcy at arm’s length. “My baby girl,” she murmured with tears in her eyes. “They say all pregnant women are beautiful, but you are the only one who can pull it off.”

“My feet hurt, my boobs ache, my back is sore, I have cankles and I think I’ve entered menopause, which I know is impossible when you’re expecting, but it’s like a fucking sauna everywhere I go,” Darcy muttered as she pulled away.

Elizabeth laughed. “I promise you’ll forget all that the second your baby is in your arms.”

Darcy rolled her eyes. “Says the lady who addressed my 16th birthday card to ’19 hours of labor.’”

“You were a pain in the ass at 16, sweetie.”

“Really?” Tony appeared out of nowhere. “Tell me more.”

Darcy glared at Tony. He grinned back at her. “Mom, this is Tony Stark,” Darcy waved between the two with a sigh. “Tony, this is my mom, Elizabeth Wilkins. No, you’ve never met her before.”

Tony shook Elizabeth’s hand. “That’s a damn shame.”

Elizabeth blushed. Darcy groaned. Jane swept in with Pepper. “Elizabeth! It’s been so long! How are you? How’s the practice? Did you have a nice winter? This is Pepper Potts, Tony’s significant other. Tony, aren’t you supposed to be doing something?”

Tony rocked back on his heels. “Nope.”

Darcy found her father and stepfather huddled around the buffet with Bruce and Sam. Sam was regaling Greg with stories about his time in the Air Force while Bruce and Daniel discussed some study in a journal Darcy never heard of and doubted more than a dozen people read.

“Darcy!” Greg gave her a gentle hug, his smile growing wider as he took in her appearance. He looked around the room furtively before he leaned close. “The scary redhead said not to remark on the size of your stomach, let alone touch it. Will being the baby’s grandfather spare my life?”

Darcy laughed and grabbed her father’s hand, pressing it on the last spot the baby kicked. It took a minute, but then he/she started again, making Greg’s eyes tear up as he looked at his daughter.

“No,” she told him. “If you start crying, I’ll start crying, and then Mom will start crying, and it would be nice if, for once, Daniel didn’t have to make excuses for the three of us.”

Darcy’s stepfather smiled as he kissed Darcy on the cheek. “Your mother got most of her tears out in the cab on the ride over. The driver didn’t bat an eye.”

“You’re in New York; not Kansas City,” she told him, taking his hand so he, too, could feel the baby move.

“Is she kicking?!?” Elizabeth called from across the room. “Wait for me!”

Darcy closed her eyes in embarrassment. It was high school graduation all over again.

* * *

“How are you holding up?”

Darcy took the glass of punch Steve handed her, guzzling half before she bothered to answer. “I’m beginning to think there’s something to be said for have a strained relationship with your parents.” She gestured to where Jane, Natasha, Pepper and Clint were huddled around Elizabeth, looking at photos on her phone. Greg was holding court on one of the armchairs, with an actual photo album! Darcy had no idea what was inside, but the maniacal grins Tony and Bucky shot her way every so often were not reassuring.

“They love you,” Steve argued.

She knew that, but it was easier to appreciate it when they weren’t in the same city as her, let alone the same room. “Couldn’t they love me in a less embarrassing way?”

Steve perched on the arm of the couch, his hand rubbing circles on her back. “Says the woman who has a list of all the things she’s going to do to, and I quote, ‘Get back at this kid.’”

“That’s different,” Darcy argued. “I probably won’t walk them to homeroom on the first day of high school and kiss them on the cheek. This – “ she pointed to where Daniel was taking out his phone to show something to Bruce and Thor – “is actually happening.”

Steve kissed the top of her head. “Nat says we’ll have cake soon.”

“Mmm.”

“Then presents.”

“Mmm.”

“Oh, and your father spent 10 minutes glaring at me. He didn’t say a word; just crossed his arms and glared. Bucky took video for you.”

Bucky was back in the running for godfather.

* * *

 

“I don’t think we need to buy this child anything until their third birthday.” Darcy nudged a box with her toe, unsurprised when whatever was inside started singing. Baby toys were loud! “Let’s agree now to put any money we would have spent on clothes and toys in their college account.”

“What about diapers?” Steve asked.

“Good point. Diapers first, then college.” She picked up a stack of children’s books and carried them to the bookshelf. “I think we have this parenting thing down.” She braced a hand on the wall and slithered to a kneeling position, adding _Where the Wild Things Are_ and _Knuffle Bunny_ to the collection of books already on the shelves.

“Darcy …” Steve was hesitant. “Don’t you want to sit down? You’ve had a long day.”

It was a long day, but it was a good day. Yes, her parents thought it would be fun to share stories and pictures from her childhood, and she was pretty sure Tony made Jarvis save the image of the one in which she wore her potty chair as a hat, but no one mentioned Darcy and Steve’s future. It was acknowledged that they were a couple, but any discussions about them beyond that weren’t in their company. (She was not naïve enough to pretend that they didn't talk about them behind their backs.) There was a moment when it looked like Elizabeth might say something – it was after the shower had ended and the Asgardian guests had departed, as well as Sue Storm, Maria Hill and a few people from SI – as she watched Darcy fight falling asleep in Steve’s arms, but Pepper distracted her.

“I can’t go to bed until all this stuff is put away.” Darcy flipped through the pages of _Eloise_. “The books call it nesting.”

“The books also say you need to rest,” Steve argued as he helped her to her feet. He led her to the rocking chair, waiting until she was settled before turning back to the pile of presents. “Tell me where you want me to put things and when we're finished, I’ll rub your feet.”

Darcy laid her head against the chair. “You’re too good to be true; you know that?”

Steve snorted. “You more than anyone know that isn’t true.”

“Yeah, you can be a pain in the ass, but that’s only sometimes. Most of the time, you’re awesome.”

“Thanks, sweetheart; I love you, too.”

She watched as he carefully pulled tags off the new clothes, placing them in the hamper to be washed. The little T-shirts and pajama sets looked like doll clothes in his large hands. “Hey,” she said suddenly. “We’re you serious when you said we should get married?”

Steve set aside the musical duck that seemed to have no purpose beyond lighting up and making noise. “Yeah,” he kneeled in front of the rocking chair. “I was.”

She swallowed the lump I her throat. “And now?”

He leaned forward. “What are you saying? Do you want to get married?”

Did she? Yes. No. “Maybe?” Darcy hedged.

Steve’s lips quirked. “Maybe isn’t an answer.”

She knew that. God, why was this so hard? “Kay, how ‘bout this? I ask you.”

Steve rested his hands on her knees as he looked at her. “You’re serious.”

She nodded. “Yeah. I’m not ready now, but someday, maybe …” She shrugged. The one time she needed to say something and she didn’t have the words. “You’re the only person I want to marry, Steve.”

He leaned forward and kissed her softly. “Good. You’re the only person I want to marry, too.”

He made it so simple. How did he do that? “You’re OK waiting?”

He pulled back. “I love you, Darcy. That’s not going to change with a piece of paper.”

“But you want it,” she pressed.

He shrugged. “I can wait. When you’re ready, ask me. I’ll say yes.”

“See, that’s the big difference between you and me right there. I’m going to ask you. You told me.”

He groaned and pushed himself to his feet. “You’re never going to let that go, are you? If you recall, it was a crazy day. My ex-girlfriend shows up out of nowhere with my best friend, yells at me, runs away to get sick, and then tells me she’s pregnant.”

Darcy leaned back in the chair, using the balls of her feet to set it in motion. She rubbed a hand over her stomach. “That chick sounds like a whack job.”

“She is,” Steve agreed. “It’s one of the reasons why I love her.”


	18. Chapter 18

There was a grunt, then a thud and finally a crash. Darcy closed her eyes as three male voices blamed one another for the breakage. She rubbed her hand over her stomach and whispered, “Please be a girl.”

“Do you mean that?” Natasha asked from where she sat on the floor by the coffee table, painting Darcy’s toes a cheerful pink – not that she could see her feet. Thirty-seven weeks. Would this pregnancy ever end?

Darcy watched as Sam wrestled the monstrosity Steve called a recliner into her living room while the owner of said furniture ducked into the kitchen to grab a broom and dustpan. Bucky leapt over back of the sofa, landing next to Darcy with a plop and a smirk. “Sometimes,” she told Natasha.

“Sometimes what, doll?” Bucky questioned. He nudged Natasha’s arm with his foot. She smacked him. He grinned and did it again.

“Can you please keep a lid on the foreplay?” Darcy grumbled. She and Steve were told by Bruce that sex this late in her pregnancy wouldn’t harm the baby, but apparently what Steve heard when Bruce suggested finding new positions to ease the strain on Darcy’s body was that sex was bad and he should not touch her. He was lucky she asked him to move in before that idiotic decision or else his fine ass would be out on the streets. OK, fine, stuck in the apartment one floor below, but it was considerably smaller than hers, with less ice cream in the freezer. Boom.

“If you think this is foreplay, I obviously did not do a good job guiding Steve through the seduction of a lady,” Bucky quipped.

Darcy snorted, tucking yet another pillow behind her lower back, sending a silent prayer of thanks to Pepper’s designer who knew the more throw pillows a person had on their couch, the better. “Don’t you think it’s strange for one man to take so much credit for another man’s sex life?” she asked Natasha.

The redhead capped the bottle of nail polish and waved a hand over Darcy’s feet, but didn’t answer. Sam, however, shot Bucky a devious grin. “Yes – especially when Steve would learn so much more from me.”

“You think so?” Bucky challenged.

“I haven’t had any complaints,” Sam shot back.

“Haven’t had any action lately, either,” Bucky retaliated. He batted away the pillow Sam threw at his face, throwing one of Darcy’s sandals in retaliation. Sam caught it easily.

“Boys,” Natasha chided in a bored tone.

OK, maybe she meant it a little bit more than sometimes when she wished for a girl.

* * *

 

“I feel sick. I think I might vomit.”

Darcy ignored Tony and queued up the next episode of _Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt_. He’d been bitching about Steve’s things in her – no, their – apartment since he’d shown up to binge the second season of the series with her.

“You cured him of the plaid, kiddo. Couldn’t you do something about the faux leather?”

“Says the man who had Steve's old place decked out in red, white and blue?”

“I was trying to make him feel welcome!” Tony pretested. “He was barely out of the ice six months. All I knew about him was the uniform and he could eat his weight in Shawarma.”

Darcy dug through the bowl of popcorn, plucking out the M&Ms that had sunk to the bottom. “I told you he was going to be moving in here.”

“’Cause it worked so well last time,” Tony muttered under his breath.

“Tony,” she said warningly, though she squeezed his arm in understanding. Their breakup had not been easy on anyone, but Tony took it especially hard. He had just gotten used to thinking of the Avengers as family, then suddenly they weren’t, with half the team living at the training facility while the other half remained at the tower.

“I just hope you know what you’re doing, kid.”

Darcy rolled her eyes. “Please. I never know what I’m doing. Fake it ‘til you make it is my motto. Besides, I already told Steve I was going to propose when it felt right. After that, asking him to move in seemed anticlimactic.”

Tony jumped up, his sock-covered feet landing on the floor with a soft thud. “What? You’re going to propose? To Captain Stick-Up-His-Ass? When? Where? Who said this was OK? No one asked me! Aren’t you supposed to ask for permission?”

“You aren’t his father, Tony.”

“So? My dad had a part in making him. I think that gives me some level of proprietary!”

Darcy snorted. “Can I please be in the room when you tell him that?”

Tony sat down. “Are you serious, Lewis? He’s one of those types, you know. When he says ‘til death do us part, he means it. I mean, you do it and its crap, I’ll find a way to get you out of it, even if it means we eliminate an American icon and go into hiding for the rest of our lives. That’s how much I care.”

“I’m touched.”

“Yeah, well, there are only a few people I’d murder for. Count yourself lucky.”

They sat in silence and watched Ellie Kemper be adorable on the screen. “Do you think I’m being stupid?” Darcy asked, not wanting to hear his answer, but needing it at the same time.

Tony sighed. “No. He loves you, that’s fucking obvious. He gets this look in his eyes when you walk into a room. I almost expect animated birds and cupids to circle his head. I haven’t figured out what you see in him …”

“Liar.”

Tony finished his drink – his _non-alcoholic_ drink, as Darcy made it a rule that anyone who entered her apartment had to follow the same pregnancy rules she did. That meant no alcohol and no caffeine. “No, Lewis, I don’t think you’re being stupid. Even when the two of you weren’t together, you were. The fact that neither one of you dated, or even thought about someone new – it was just a matter of time.” He patted his hand on her stomach, his mouth turning up in a grin when the baby kicked in response. “’Course, little Anthony here bumped up that timetable a bit, didn’t ya?”

Darcy watched as the billionaire cooed to her belly. She hoped Jarvis took video. Pepper loved when he did this.

“Any thoughts on how you’re going do it?”

“Do what?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Pop the question. Duh.”

Darcy shook her head. “I’m riding the wave of success that I got the idea out without running away. I’ll take the next step when it feels right.”

Tony lifted his almost-empty glass of grape Kool-Aid and clinked it to Darcy’s. “As founder of the Duck Responsibility At All Costs Club, I salute you.”

Darcy took a tiny sip of her overly sweet drink, as consuming liquid of any kind immediately made her had to pee and getting up from the couch was a lesson in physics she was currently failing. She leaned against Tony’s arm and turned her attention back to the screen.

“If you decide to go the jumbo Tron route, I know a guy,” Tony told her.

Darcy started laughing. Then she had to pee. Sigh.

* * *

 

“I don’t have to go.”

Darcy shook her head as Steve folded yet another white T-shirt into his duffle bag. “The intel suggests it’s the last Hydra base.”

“Intel’s often wrong. You know that.”

“But what if it isn’t?”

Steve ran his fingers through his hair. He looked torn. Frustrated. She knew he wanted to go, knew he thought of this mission as a chance to close the door on something he thought his finished decades ago. It promised to be a quick operation, Coulson and his team having done all the surveillance and prep. The new director of SHIELD reached out to the Avengers as a form of courtesy, knowing all of them had personal reasons for hating Hydra, but Steve and Bucky’s reasons ran deeper.

“Eighteen hours,” he told Darcy for the millionth time. “Twenty-four tops.”

“I know! You tell me anymore, our kid’s going to come out with that tattooed across their back.”

Steve pulled the zipper closed on his bag. His shield and uniform were already on the quinjet, Bucky having swept through the apartment to grab both moments before, pausing only to plant a kiss on Darcy’s forehead and rub her belly for good luck. She was going to have Natasha kick his ass for that later.

“I’d feel better if Bruce were staying behind.”

“You guys might need him. Or the Other Guy.”

“But the baby –“

“Is right here.” Darcy pointed to her stomach. “I have no plans to leave the tower, let alone our apartment, while you’re off being a hero. Jane’s gonna come over and we’re going to make a day of it. If anything happens, Pepper has the two OBs both she and Tony vetted and we approved on call, and we both know Jane paid more attention to the Lamaze lessons than I did. Everything is going to be fine.”

* * *

 

“Oh God, why’d I say everything what going to be fine?” Darcy groaned as another contraction hit.

Steve and the others had barely been gone two hours when she felt the first twinge of pain. She ignored it. Her body was feeling all sorts of aches these days. Also, she had managed to talk Steve into a round of pre-world saving sex the night before – very slow and very careful, but still amazing pre-world saving sex – and figured that had something to do with it. In a way, it probably did, as Jane just informed her that sex could start labor.

“What? Why didn’t someone tell me that?”

“Don’t you remember Ross kissing Rachel just before she went into labor?” Jane shot back. “My God, Darcy! We’ve only watched Friends a gazillion times!”

Darcy opened her mouth to yell at Jane – something about how she shouldn’t be shouting at her; what kind of a future godmother was she? – when she felt something wet between her legs. “Oh shit.”

“What?” Jane looked down. A small puddle was forming on the couch cushion. “Is that you?”

“Who the fuck else would it be?”

“Are you going to the bathroom?”

It was true that bladder control wasn’t what it used to be, but this was not her. “I think my water just broke.”

Jane’s eyes went wide. “But … but ...” She picked up Darcy’s well-thumbed copy of _What to Expect When You’re Expecting_. “It’s too soon! You’re supposed to have contractions for hours before your water breaks! And this is your first baby! First babies are supposed to take forever! That’s what everyone says!”

“Well everyone is wrong!” Darcy shouted before another contraction stole her breath. She grabbed Jane’s hand and squeezed. Jane, God love her, didn’t even flinch. Instead, she relaxed and took a deep breath, letting it out in short bursts, as the female Lamaze instructor tried many times to get Darcy to do, but she was always too busy cracking jokes about heavy breathing getting her knocked up in the first place. She figured she’d yell at Steve during the worst of labor and let him spend the rest of their lives making it up to her. She didn’t have to know how to breathe to do that! “Okay,” Darcy panted, her grip loosening as the pain subsided. “I’m okay.”

“I think we should let Jarvis contact Steve.”

“No!” Darcy tried to push herself to a seated position. “He needs to do this!”

“He needs to be here!”

Darcy bit her lip as another contraction hit. Fuck! Was this kid ever going to let up? “Call Pepper,” she gasped. “Get her to call the doctor.”

“Darcy –“

“No! I’m not going to be the reason Steve doesn’t kick Hydra ass!”

* * *

 

It was a credit to Dr. Madeline O’Brien’s history of childbirth that the woman didn’t even bat an eye as Pepper Potts met her at the elevator, her bare feet the only sign that the normally unflappable CEO was out of her element.

“When did the contractions begin?” Madeline asked as she walked briskly to Darcy’s apartment.

“Just after eleven.”

“When did her water break?”

“Less than thirty minutes ago.”

Madeline followed Pepper into the apartment, smiling as she heard two women yelling at each other about breathing techniques and focal points. “It sounds like a normal labor,” she smiled at Pepper reassuringly.

“We have a medical floor.”

“I’m sure you do,” Madeline said as she sat her brown leather medical bag on the coffee table, bending over to shake Darcy’s hand before lifting the end of the blanket Jane pulled over her after Darcy ditched her soaked sweatpants and underwear. “However, this little one isn’t going to wait for us to make it there.”

“What?” Darcy gasped. She turned to Jane, her eyes wide. “Call Steve!”

“Sweetie, he’s not going to get here in time.”

“I know that!” Darcy shouted. “But I need him! I need to hear his voice. Call him!”

Pepper was already on her phone, having leaned on Phil to keep one line of communication open between the team and the tower – just in case. Darcy watched as she murmured quietly, trying to guess what the expression in her face wasn’t saying. Good news? Bad news? Were they still fighting? Would Steve even be able to talk to her?

“Darcy?!?” She started crying as his panicked voice echoed throughout the room. “Sweetheart,” he soothed. “It's over. We're on our way home but I'm not going to make it." He took a shuddering breath. "I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should be there with you. I shouldn’t have gone. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry!” Darcy cried. “Jane wanted me to call you sooner, but I didn’t want to distract you and now the baby’s coming and you’re going to miss it!”

“He doesn’t have to, Lewis,” Tony’s voice was smug. “Jarvis can share video on Cap’s tablet. All I need is your permission.”

“You’re actually asking for permission?” Darcy gasped at the pressure on her lower abdomen increased. Talking too much out of her. She knew she should shut up conserve her energy, but she’d be damned if labor was going to affect her snark.

“Rude. Hey, why is your room empty?"

“We’re not on medical, Tony,” Pepper informed him.

“What?” Tony asked as Steve shouted “Where are you?”

“Darcy and Steve’s apartment,” Pepper informed them. “The baby is coming too fast for us to move her.”

“Please tell me she’s giving birth in Cap’s chair so we have a reason to burn the fucking thing.”

“TONY!” Several voices shouted.

Madeline turned out the commotion. She had the feeling it soothed Darcy more than the classical music or trickling waterfalls some of her patients insisted on having during labor. “Miss Lewis, you’re going to have to push soon.”

“Darcy?” Steve asked.

“Oh God,” Darcy groaned. “Only Steve gets to watch! Everyone else better cover their fucking eyes!”

She heard Clint mutter “Don’t have to tell me twice” before everything became a blur.

* * *

 

“Darcy?”

She turned her head towards the sound of Steve’s voice. A second later, she felt his hand pushing away the strands of hair still stuck to her forehead, his lips following. Christ, she was exhausted.

“What time is it?” she mumbled, eyes still shut.

“Almost midnight.”

“Did you see her?”

He chuckled softly. Darcy forced herself to open her eyes, blinking wearily as the image of Steve sitting next to her hospital bed with their daughter in his arms slowly came into focus. She was small, just barely over six pounds. Darcy couldn’t get over how tiny she was when she held her, crying just as hard as her daughter, but seeing her in Steve’s arms, one of his large hands carefully supporting her head while the other cradled her body against his chest … She felt her eyes well up once more. “Fucking hormones,” she mumbled.

Steve’s answering grin was shaky, his own eyes filling with tears as he scooted closer to lay their sleeping daughter in the crook of Darcy’s arm. He lightly ran his hand over her cap of dark hair. Her little nose crinkled in response. “She’s gorgeous,” he whispered, “just like her mother.” He kissed the top of Darcy's head. "You were amazing, sweetheart. I'm so proud of you."

"I called you names."

"I deserved it."

"I made you swear never to touch me again."

"Still hoping I can talk you out of that one."

"You're a dad, Steve."

He shook his head, like he was still coming to terms with it. She knew how he felt because she felt it, too. Her heart so full, she thought it would burst. She thought she knew what love was. She knew she loved Steve, her parents, Jane and Thor, Tony and Pepper, Bucky, Clint, Natasha, Sam and Bruce, but the love that hit her as soon as the doctor had announced “It’s a girl!” was overwhelming – and it kept growing. She kissed her daughter’s forehead, kissed Steve, then kissed their little girl again. This was love. This was perfection. This was what she wanted and she never even knew it.

“The others are waiting,” Steve said wryly as he perched on the edge of the bed. “With varying levels of patience.”

Darcy grinned. “Guess she’s gonna have to get used to that, huh?”

“Are you sure you’re up for visitors, sweetheart?”

Darcy nodded. “In a minute, OK? I just want to enjoy the three of us a bit longer. You, me and Ava.”

Steve smiled, running his index finger over their daughter’s cheek. “Ava Jane …” he gave Darcy a questioning look. They’d never discussed the baby’s last name.

“Rogers,” she told him. “Ava Jane Rogers.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter!
> 
> Warning: So much fluff ahead.

_You can’t imagine your life with kids, until you have them. Then you can’t imagine your life without them._

Darcy wrote that on a friend’s baby shower card years ago. She didn’t mean it. She Googled it in the Uber on her way to the house where the shower was held, desperate to make the drugstore gift card holding the impersonal gift card somewhat nicer than it actually was.

She understood it now.

Ava was … Ava was everything. From the moment she was placed in Darcy’s arms, her world shrank until the tiny red-faced newborn was the only thing that mattered. She heard Steve’s voice telling her how well she did, how proud he was of her, how much he loved her and their daughter, but it didn’t register; not when compared with the new person cradled in her arms.

Ava. Her beautiful and wonderful daughter.

Steve got it. She could tell the first time she saw him holding their little girl, his face awestruck has he took in every detail, his calloused fingers tracing lightly over her plump cheeks, minuscule nose (“Thank fucking God she didn’t come out with Cap’s beak,” Tony announced when Darcy deemed herself presentable enough for the other Avengers to view Steve’s tablet. Natasha smacked the back of his head, but Bucky had nodded solemnly in agreement.) and dark fuzz masquerading as hair. She squeaked and he got this stupid look on his face like it was the most important sound in the world. She fussed and he went into full-fledged Captain America mode, determined to stop the source of her unhappiness. She cried and … Actually, Ava hardly ever cried because Darcy and Steve weren’t the only people under her spell. She had charmed each and every Avenger, Jane and Pepper, and any other person invited to their inner circle.

Fury actually cooed at Ava. Jarvis had video to prove it.

Ava was never left alone long enough to get upset. Her middle-of-the-night feedings and general “I’m a baby and can’t tell time” moments were usually spent in the company of one of her parents and someone else who needed a late-night/early morning baby fix. Bucky was a common visitor, though Natasha was a close second. Jane actually took extended breaks from science to cuddle her goddaughter and it wasn’t unusual for Tony to walk Ava around the tower when Darcy needed a break. It took a few months, but Bruce got over his fear that he’d hurt Ava while Clint discovered his perfect aim referred to tossing used diapers in the garbage, too – though Pepper quickly shot down his competition against Bucky. Thor's deep voice soothed Ava during her biggest tantrums and Sam sang to Ava, telling Darcy it was never too early for his No. 1 girl to develop taste, a sentiment Darcy agreed with completely.

They had crowded into Darcy's room that first visit; just hours after Ava entered the world. They surrounded the bed, eager to see the newest member of their extended family in person. Darcy shifted to give them a better view, Steve perched at her side with so much pride, everyone could feel it. Ava had opened her eyes, glanced sleepily around her, yawned and gone back to sleep.

“Make her do it again,” Tony demanded.

“She’s a baby, Tony,” Pepper admonished.

“Jarvis, you need to record everything this little girl ever does,” Tony declared. “I don’t want to miss a thing.”

For once, no one told him he was being ridiculous. Life went on. There were problems to fix, situations to diffuse, crazy-assed people determined to bring the Avengers to their knees. The team planned. They fought. They saved the day. And when they returned to the tower, they gathered on the communal floor to watch video of Ava’s doings while they were gone, even if there wasn’t much to see those first few months and the child on screen was doing the exact same thing as the child being held by one of the superheroes at that very moment.

They fought over whose turn it was to hold Ava often. Jane was the worst at sharing. Pepper made a chart and Jane ignored it. Tony made threats. Jane had Thor remind Tony why that was a bad idea. Darcy pointed out that she was Ava’s mother. Jane reminded her that she was her intern first and that was a bond that superseded all others. Darcy still didn’t know where Jane was going with that argument, but since she really had to pee at the time, she let the astrophysicist have the baby and went to do her private business in private.

How anyone had a baby without a team of superheroes to help was beyond her.

Still, there were moments when it was just the three of them: Darcy, Steve and Ava. Darcy cherished them. She loved listening to Steve read to their daughter, his deep voice going up or down several octaves as he did the voices to accompany the stories. They danced around their apartment, the baby swaddled in a carrier between them, cooing as Steve let go of his inhibitions in order to make “his girls” happy. They cuddled together in their oversized bed, the baby sound asleep, slurping nosily on her fingers as her parents watched, the line of drool coming out of Ava's mouth somehow sweet and precious because she was theirs.

Darcy met Steve’s eyes. She smiled. He smiled back.

“I love you,” she told him softly.

“I love you,” he whispered.

And she did. It was like Ava cured her of all of her fears and worries, her presence the balm their relationship so desperately needed. No, things weren’t perfect. Steve was still overprotective and worried about the safety of his girl and his daughter 24/7, but he continued to go to therapy, even adding a family counselor to the mix that the two of them visited together. Darcy listened – truly listened – as he spoke of safety measures and protocols. He was still stubborn and she was still prideful, but they learned to put that aside and talk to each other when life got difficult. They did it for their daughter. They did it for their relationship. They did it for themselves. They were committed, 100 percent and then some, and yet Darcy could not bring herself to ask Steve to marry her.

She thought about it. She thought about it a lot. She thought about doing it the first time Steve came back from an extended mission, after she’d gone nearly 72 hours with only a couple hours of sleep here and there, completely absorbed in single parent mode as fate decided to have everyone she knew be busy when she desperately needed a second set of hands. He walked into their apartment to find Darcy sobbing on Ava’s bedroom floor, Ava’s cries from her crib almost drowning out her mother’s.

“I can’t,” Darcy confessed as Steve tried to comfort her. “I can’t do this. She won’t stop. I’m a terrible mother. You need to take her away, give her to someone who knows what she’s doing. Please.”

Steve checked on Ava, quickly changing her diaper before swaddling her in the quilted blanket Darcy received from the parents in South America, before he turned his attention to Darcy. She didn’t remember him carrying her to their bathroom, where he stripped her of the pajamas she was wearing when he left, joining her for a long overdue shower. She may have fallen asleep against his chest, something she was sure was illegal because Steve Rogers naked was a thing of beauty.

She woke six hours later in their bed, wearing clean clothes and no longer smelling of baby vomit. She shuffled downstairs; stopping at the site of Steve sprawled on the couch, sound asleep, with Ava on his chest. He had his arms around her protectively. She had the material of his T-shirt clutched in her tiny fists.

His eyes opened as she perched on the edge of the coffee table. “Hey,” he whispered. “Feeling better?”

She nodded. “Sorry.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be. I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

Darcy ran a hand over their daughter. She liked to sleep with her legs tucked under her, her bottom up in the air. Darcy could have gone through life without her parents sending photos of Darcy sleeping the exact same way. Steve loved them. She hoped to God Bucky never found them. “I didn’t mean it when I told you to take her away,” she told him.

He placed one of his hands over hers. “Sweetheart, I can’t imagine a parent in the world not thinking that at one time or another.”

“So you’re saying I’m ordinary?”

“Never.”

Time passed. Ava celebrated her first birthday. In a moment of weakness brought on by teething, Darcy told Tony he could help plan her party, which in Tony world meant take over the whole thing. He did go with a circus theme, though Darcy drew the line at clowns, Pepper said no to animals of any kind, and Clint and Bucky spent most of the party critiquing the performers. Ava blinked owlishly at the presents stacked before her, content to chew on the bottom of her shoes as Darcy and Steve took turns opening her gifts. She cried when it was time for cake, angry her parents wouldn’t let her touch the candle flame, but all was forgiven seconds later when Darcy gave Ava her first taste of frosting.

“We should have stripped her down to her diaper,” Darcy yelled to Steve as she spayed an entire bottle of stain remover on Ava’s birthday dress. She tossed the dress in the washer and turned it on before going to the bathroom, giggling at the sight of Ava splashing in the tub, dodging the washcloth her father wielded in an attempt to clean the remaining frosting from her face.

“Next birthday,” Steve promised – one they forgot until they were back in the bathroom a year later, cleaning birthday cake off a sugar-high toddler, though this time it was Darcy who was tasked with washing two-year-old Ava while Steve did the laundry.

“Darce, I don’t think –“ Steve dropped the dress at the first sound of sickness coming from the bathroom. He ran into the room just in time to see Darcy bent over the toilet, her body heaving as she threw up everything she digested at the party. Ava was still strapped in her bath seat in the tub, her own face turning a strange shade of green before she too got sick.

“Oh God,” Darcy groaned.

She blamed it on the cake. She had too much. Ava had too much. A day later, she admitted maybe it was something more and tried not to hate Steve and his super soldier, can’t-get-sick-ever immune system while she and her daughter dispelled any solids they’d ever eaten – and then some. Darcy was a terrible patient, bitchy and whiny most of the time, and sad and pathetic every time Ava’s blue eyes filled up with tears and she moaned uncomfortably. Steve was their rock, taking care of both of them, shooing away everyone but Bucky (yet another super soldier with an untouchable immune system) and Bruce.

“I’m never eating again,” Darcy moaned, her head resting on the (thankfully clean) bathroom floor. Almost 60 hours had passed. Ava was feeling better, having managed to keep her breakfast of plain Rice Krispies and a mushed banana in her stomach. She was sound asleep in her room, the occasional snuffle the only sound to come from the baby monitor Steve had propped by the sink.

Steve placed a cool washcloth on the back of Darcy's neck and rubbed his hands along her shoulders, his fingers working out the various knots. “Try one bite,” he requested, nudging the plate with three crackers on it with his foot.

“I’m just going to throw it up,” Darcy muttered. “I don’t want to get it all over you." She winced at the memory of vomiting all over Captain America. Twice. “There’s no more mystery in our relationship,” she whined. “You’re never going to want to sleep with me again!”

Steve chuckled and stretched on the floor next to her, his fingers running through her hair in that way that immediately made her sleepy and compliant. “I will never not want you,” he promised.

“You’re just saying that to make me eat a cracker,” she grumbled.

“I’m not.”

She ate one anyone, nibbling slowly, one eye on the toilet as she waited for her stomach’s reaction. Ten minutes later, she started on cracker number two.

“That’s my girl,” Steve said softly, his fingers still carding through her hair.

“Marry me.”

She couldn't see his face. She could inly imagine shocked he was given his choked "What?" in response. Darcy couldn’t believe the words came out of her mouth. Well, she could – a lot of stuff had come out of her mouth the past few days -- but a marriage proposal? She had wanted to do something special, something meaningful, something neither one of them would ever forget. Who the hell proposed on a bathroom floor?

She did, that’s who.

“Marry me,” she pushed herself up until she was leaning heavily against the vanity. She took Steve’s hands in hers. “If I haven’t sent you running yet, it’s obvious I never will. I should make an honest man out of you – especially now.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed. “Why ‘especially now?’”

"Because our daughter had the flu, but I didn’t.” Darcy pulled open one of the low drawers of the vanity and pulled out the pregnancy test she’d taken that morning. “Or maybe I did, at first, but my boobs don’t usually hurt when I’m sick, so …”

Steve’s eyes were wide as looked at the dark blue line. “We’re having a baby?”

Her smile was full of mischief. “For the record, you found out before everyone else this time.”

Steve pulled Darcy into his arms. “Yes,” he told her, kissing the top of her head. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

“Good,” Darcy pushed him away. “But when we tell this story later, can we leave out the part where I get sick?”

She barely made it to the toilet in time. Once again, she threatened to ground their unborn child for life because of how terrible the early months of her pregnancy were, but all it took was one look at Marcus James to make her change her mind.

He was the spitting image of his father.

* * *

 

Ava was the flower girl at her parents’ wedding. She had celebrated her fourth birthday the month before and thought her _Elephant and Piggie_ party was better than theirs’. Her mommy’s dress was pretty, though. She held her little brother’s hand as he toddled down the aisle with her. He was supposed to be the ring bearer, but Marcus liked to put everything in his mouth, so she carried the rings, too.

She was ‘sponsible like that.

She thought it was funny that everyone clapped when her parents kissed. What was special about that? They were _always_ kissing. They were kissing her, kissing her brother, kissing each other. That morning, she saw her daddy lean down and kiss her mommy’s belly. Eight months later, she had a new brother: Jacob Anthony.

Her parents really needed to stop kissing each other so much.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
